Like pumpkins, we have mush for brains . . .

On Sunday’s trip to get 3B’s first pumpkin, we didn’t forget to bring the baby or the dog, and we didn’t leave them in the pumpkin patch, either. I’d be hard pressed, however, to name anything else that we didn’t forget.

What we forgot:

  • To reset the clock in the car, so we sweated through traffic on the way out, unsure if we’d make it before the pumpkin patch closed.

    Surprise, surprise–parents running late, right? On top of that, 3B squawked the whole way out until we pulled off to feed him. Turns out he wasn’t hungry, he just wanted out of his car seat. The break gave Barky a chance to poop, which I got to pick up with a plastic bag of unknown provenance whose previous contents had apparently been half a pound of garlic butter, which coated my hand and forearm. Lovely.

  • That on October 29, there aren’t going to be many pumpkins left in the patch. In fact, when approaching the patch, it might appear that there are no whole pumpkins left at all, just fragments of what was left after an errant artillery barrage hit the patch. The advantage, however, is that you can’t spend much time debating over this one or that one, you’ve got to snatch up any whole pumpkin that you find to prevent anyone else from stealing away with it.
  • The diaper bag. OK, not a big deal, since we always keep spare supplies in the basket under the stroller. So, we’ve got diapers, wipes, and hand sanitzer–what could we possibly be missing? How about
  • The camera–that’s OK, it’s not like we dressed up 3B in a special outfit so we could get a photo for our holiday cards or anything.
  • The disposable video camera–again, why would we want any remembrance of 3B’s first trip to a pumpkin patch?
  • The stunt-double outfits in the event of barfing, pooping, or mud-wrestling the shouting goat that was guarding the entrance to the pumpkin patch.
  • The diapers that actually fit 3B–these days, the three Bs in his name are Big Beanstalk Boy, since he started out big and has been growing like Jack’s magic beanstalk ever since. (For those of you joining this show while it’s already in progress, 3B refers to his original moniker: Baby Boy Bradstein.)
  • A changing pad. You know, one of those handy mats that you spread out so you don’t have to prop your baby, poop-filled diaper and all, on your lap in the front seat of the car to change him.

We could either whine and get pissy about it–my preferred reaction to stress when I’m hungry or tired–or we could shake our heads, laugh, and stick our legs out to trip the other parents running for the last whole pumpkin in the patch. We chose the latter (apologies to those other parents–those falls look like they hurt.)

And I did have my phone, so we were able to snap some shots:

Out standing in its field
Out standing in its field–one of the two whole pumpkins we were able to find.

Oh my god, that pumpkin's going to crush me!
Oh my god, that pumpkin’s going to crush me!

. . .I love my Mom.
No it’s not–silly pumpkin!

Dead tree branch and farm. A still life?
It was a good hike into the woods, with nice views of the farm.

Skeleton
How artsy-fartsy can you really get with a camera phone?

We did get two nice pumpkins and have a nice hike into the woods, thanks to 3B’s new ride. Barky loved tearing up and down the trail, finding traces of every creature that had passed since the Civil War, and leaving his mark on every leaf of grass. On the way home, we used the new Google Maps application that I installed on my Treo to find what appeared to be a nice place where Mama could get the pizza she always craves and I could get, well, something other than pizza.

More on that in the next post, however. . .

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  • Your Fav

    It is nice to see that you are real parents after all. Things were going so smoothly for you… until now!!! Welcome to the real world.

    And then this is where I tell you that things will get better.

    At least you know the pumpkin patch was sincere, since Snoopy had already attacked it in his Sopwith Camel. Remember a jacket when you go back to see the Great Pumpkin rising.

  • Thank goodness for camera phones! Whew.

  • He even smiles with a giant sinister pumpkin looming above him??? Is there any cute thing he can’t do???

  • Lucky thing I know you well enough to know you had a good, peaceful time without all the media paraphernalia, or I’d have to tell you not to be so nutty about posterity. The fun is what you do while you’re there; life’s best moments don’t come at 30 fps. The record is just for the rest of us vicarious vampires (O.K., and you and 3B in 10 years), who want to sip away at the vitality of the experience, but every time you see life through a frame you’ve taken a step onto the other side of the proscenium. Forget the cameras more often. Laura Ingalls Wilder survived without footage of her first trip to a pumpkin patch. Somehow I think Wiseboy will make it through too.

    Nice barn, though.

  • I agree with your fav…
    it’s nice to see that you can have a moment like the rest of us live…
    welcome to parenthood…
    where you just might forget to pack 1/2 of what you need…
    where you just might show up to work with a cheerio stuck to your hair…
    where you just might get kicked in the face by a poop covered tiny-foot.
    Ahhhh. the joys of being a parent…

  • the baby-squishing pumpkin is AWEsome – include that every year! make it a tradition!