I love the pumpkin patch. It's true. The thought of all those little orange globes in a sea of green and amber make me a little giddy. Throw in some warm apple cider and a hayride and I've reached total nirvana.
This love for getting straw in the nooks of my clothes and debating what qualities make the perfect pumpkin is something I want to pass down to my kids. So, every year we make going to the pumpkin patch a family affair. Dave and I were in the pumpkin patch when I was 40 weeks pregnant with Ellie. We rode in the back of a tractor with my parents as Dave and I exchanged glances and giggles about our secret that I was pregnant with Jonah. And Dave and I have traipsed through mud and vines to scout out the perfect first pumpkin for each of our little babies.
Today was no exception. While we didn't have any secrets to keep this year, we did marvel at the way our kids enjoyed bouncing around in the back of a tractor bed, negotiated the thick green vines to find their pumpkin and had a ball in a huge maze of straw bales.
Yes, I truly love the pumpkin patch.
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