We went to pick a pumpkin

Last year this time, we had a tiny baby. And I had grand plans for a pumpkin patch excursion with said baby. We ended up going to a place that was a hit with my then 2 year old niece the year before, but turned out to be a bit commercial and crowded for a new mom with a brand new baby.  This picture pretty much sums it up:

Yup. Stroller parking. Kill me now. There is nothing worse than a place designed for children, but where you have to park a stroller anyway. But I would not be deterred. Oh no. I was getting a picture of my sweet baby resting among the pumpkins.  Which were not in a patch mind you, but already picked and waiting for you at the gift shop. Expectations were not quite met by any member of our family. See?

That there is Colin’s patented “Bitch, please!” look. But the infant version. He has perfected a new one now that he can fully control his facial expressions and they aren’t confined to changing simply when he has gas. He’s a very gifted child. But I mean, really. What in the heck was I thinking, taking a wee little 6 week old and PROPPING him up against some dirty ass pumpkins. New moms. We are insane. Just ignore us until the kid turns one.

But this year, I have a one year old. Which changes the game entirely. Duh. However, I do learn from past mistakes, so this year I was determined we find a nice *real* pumpkin patch, complete with tractor ride TO the pumpkins.  That was a necessity. My sister recommended we go out West to a little farm called “Great Country Farms”. And I’ll say it- that is not an exaggeration. That place was great. In fact, I was hesitant to even mention it by name because I don’t want everyone from the commercial farm *Cox Farms, Cough, Cough* going there next year.  Because it was really perfect. Picturesque setting, a real working farm that rotates crops and participates as a CSA, and owns real animals that are not trucked in for the occasion. A totally family friendly atmosphere. And they even had their own “Beyonce”.  Nuff said.

And now, I commence my photo dump:

Matching Father- Son Puffer Vests. Had to be done.

Discovering Grasshoppers in the….grass

Tractor rides are big hits with one year old boys. Colin repeated “Vroom” over and over the entire ride to the patch.

Almost there…..

The search for the perfect pumpkin. Ooooh, dirt! Let’s play with that.

And just when you thought the pig racing, tractor-riding, animal petting couldn’t get any better, this happened:


Yeah, I’d say it was a perfect day.

*Editor’s note: I texted my dad the picture of Colin interacting with “Beyonce” as he is familiar with the Bloggess’ most famous post to date. His reply? “Tell me you didn’t buy that!”.  Well, as a matter of fact, I didn’t. But only because it wasn’t for sale.


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