In other words, I'm lazy.
A couple weeks ago, my mom and her hubby traveled north to the frozen tundra that is Iowa to visit us. (I'm kidding. Kind of. Not about my mom and Mark; I mean about Iowa- it's only freezing six, maybe seven months out of the year.)
(Okay, so actually I'm kidding again. It's not frozen for that long; it's just a colder climate than what I grew up in. That makes it, to my mind, a barren, icy landscape. Plus the high is in the 40's right now, and today is one of those days where I woke up with a chill and haven't been able to shake it. Do you ever have days like that?)
(I've decided to write the rest of this post in parentheses.)
Where was I?
Right. My mom. Mark. Frozen tundra.
During this visit, Derek and Mark went golfing while Mom, the kiddos, and I didn't go golfing. We went to the pumpkin patch, instead.
What's that? You want to see some photos of our little excursion?
I'm so glad you asked!
Caedmon and Grandma, lounging in the corn pool. Almost as relaxing as a real pool, except you have to wear four layers of clothing and small, hard kernels of corn manage to wedge themselves into some highly uncomfortable places.
Atticus jumping.
Grandma and Adelaide jumping.
When my sisters and I were kids, my mom always said we had to take swimming lessons until we were strong enough in the water to be able to rescue her from the deep end of the pool. She has apparently continued this tradition with her grandchildren. It looks like a lot more fun than my childhood attempted rescue efforts. In my defense, it took me awhile to learn that people don't like to be rescued by their necks.
Caedmon, delighted to find his own foot.
With her tongue sticking out and braids flying, this photo reminds me of a Norman Rockwell painting. It would be even better if her mother were a decent photographer and could take a photo without cutting everyone's heads off.
Adelaide going down the giant burlap sack slide.
Right to left, that's Atticus, Grandma, and our new adopted son on the hayrack ride. We're still tossing around names for the little fella, but we've narrowed it down to "Bubba" and "Little John."
Atticus and Caedmon in the fake, miniature reproduction outhouse. I'm not sure who it was that said, "You know what this pumpkin patch needs? An outhouse. But let's make sure it's just a shell with no actual 'facilities,' and that it's so tiny two small children can barely squeeze in together. Kids will love it."
And you know what? My kids did.
We also got some samples of fudge from the store, and I'm still thinking about the Dark Chocolate Salted Caramel fudge that I tried. It was divine, and I don't normally care for fudge. I didn't get a picture of any of that. You're crushed, I know.
Console yourself with the thought of another post tomorrow about our new/old dresser. (How are you ever going to sleep tonight!?)
