I was so wrong about Pumpkin Farms

Until today, I had never in my life visited a pumpkin farm. I actually didn't even know you *could* go to a farm and visit/pick pumpkins. Either we didn't have such an option in Western PA in the 80s, or my parents were not clued into this holiday adventure. Or more likely, they thought it was a hassle/dirty/less efficient than just getting our annual pumpkin at Giant Eagle. (For the non Pittsburghers among us, that was our local grocery store, also pronounced 'Gine Iggle'.)

But after having BabyT in 2009, I started to notice lovely fall photos of happy children frolicking amidst pumpkins on Facebook in October. And people at work would ask about "the *best* pumpkin patches" on our parents email lists. I guess here in Western Washington, we have options, yo. And god forbid we should disappoint our offspring by going to a *lame* pumpkin farm. Oh no, we must choose the *best* one. *snicker*

So I planned to happily bypass the whole pumpkin farm issue, except for the tiny fact that my daughter has a deep and abiding love for pumpkins. I found this out when I bought her a tiny round one on a shopping trip and she hugged it like it was her best friend. On most nights she sleeps with it. My mom had the same idea and bought her one as well, and she loves it too. She puts them together in her dollhouse to keep her dinosaurs company. (Yes, you read that correctly. The dinosaurs live in the dollhouse with her Little People. And of course the pumpkins.)

So I figured that we should go to a local pumpkin farm, and check off this apparently all-American Halloween tradition.

I posted a Google+ status about how it seemed like a really boring thing to do. I don't like getting wet or dirty, and walking around a field with a bunch of pumpkins seems not very interesting.

Well, Halloween is on Monday, and TJ and I have alternately been sick this week, so today was the day.  As is usual with a toddler, her nap ran unexpectedly late, she was cranky, and it was pouring rain. But we put our REI rain gear on (we live in Seattle, you know), T donned her new frog rain boots, and we drove off to Dr Maze's farm, conveniently located close to home.

Since it was after 5pm on a really wet day, there were only 4 of us in the whole place (besides the employees).  Everything was soaking wet and there were lots of puddles.  It was starting to get dark.

But it was AMAZING.  It was right up T's alley.  She could touch everything.  She could stomp in puddles.  She could pick up pumpkins and hug them.  She could kiss them.  (yes, I know, crazy.)  She got to decide where we went and what we looked at.  She was WEARING HER FROGGY BOOTS, MAMA!  She saw real live chickens, alpacas (new word for her), and pygmy goats.  We visited the "Monster Pumpkin" section twice, where they had the HUGE ones.  She calls them 'Daddy pumpkins'.  The medium sized ones were (wait for it) 'Mama pumpkins'.   And the little ones of all colors?  Yep, you guessed it - 'Trillian Pumpkins'.

She was briefly sad, and burst into tears in that delightful 2 year old way about the crushed pumpkin we saw, and one that had some odd lumps and bumps on it.  But when I asked her later which pumpkin was her favorite, she was all about the "bumpy one".

I actually remembered my camera, and even better, remembered to take photos.  I'm pretty darn proud of the last one.  Too bad it was a total accident and not due to any sort of skill or planning on my part.  But this gives me hope that I can learn to capture some awesome shots of my awesome girl.



Froggy boots, T's favorite bumpy pumpkin, and mama is sorry for hating on the pumpkin farm


So yeah, I'm totally eating my words about this pumpkin farm business.  Right now, my happy toddler is sleeping with her 2 newest pumpkins, while the other two watch over her from the dollhouse.

We are so doing this every year, even when she's 20.