I realize that the last few days have been sequel-rich, and I apologize if you feel like you are experiencing the blog equivalent of a clip-show. This post, however, features completely different content than the first pumpkin patch trip. We went with a completely different family, on a completely different day, to a completely different patch. And you know what? No one likes a complainer.
I enjoy this picture for two reasons. One: this tree being and I are making the same face. Two:Maggie, if you look closely, is clearly rolling her eyes about her dorky mama. She is so very advanced!
This is sort of a weird picture, because Max reached his hand through the head hole at the last second, so it looks disturbingly like he is bursting out of his own chest cavity. Or it would if the painted person figure were a more realistic illusion.
They have these padded sawhorses that kids (or adults who live tragically in the past of their own youths) can ride, and Max was excited to try one out. However, it turned out that several of the Lindsay girls were also excited to try out the very same horse. Andrea and I proposed a shared horsey experience.
Max was bemused, and then increasingly anxious, to find himself in the middle of a Lindsay sandwich. He graciously bowed out and left the horse to the cowgirls.
The pumpkin patch we went to (Silveyville, in Dixon, for any interested parties) had a pumpkin painting station. Max painted his pumpkin a sinister and almost uniform black, with a few blue and yellow spots, just for contrast. This picture was taken moments before he accidentally dipped his hand in the paint, wiped his hand on his face and then his shirt, and consequently transformed into his alter-ego, Max, The Shirtless In Public Superhero. I couldn't really capture Max's alter-ego in action, because I had to attend to the various paint-related issues that his new identity brought into our lives, and therefore could not use the camera.
Look how happy Baby Sammy (Maggie's future spouse/
punching bag) looks. Little does he know what's in store for him.
Andrea and I, who have posed together with our babies in
less comfortable times, thought that an updated group photo might be nice. Look how both mothers are cheerfully not realizing what their respective offspring are up to down below. Maggie is all but throttling poor Sammy, for goodness' sake!
Oh, Sammy. I'll protect you as best I can, Buddy.
This is probably what Sammy saw in his dreams last night. Fatal attraction: Infant Edition.
I enjoy this picture for two reasons. One: this tree being and I are making the same face. Two:Maggie, if you look closely, is clearly rolling her eyes about her dorky mama. She is so very advanced!
This is sort of a weird picture, because Max reached his hand through the head hole at the last second, so it looks disturbingly like he is bursting out of his own chest cavity. Or it would if the painted person figure were a more realistic illusion.
They have these padded sawhorses that kids (or adults who live tragically in the past of their own youths) can ride, and Max was excited to try one out. However, it turned out that several of the Lindsay girls were also excited to try out the very same horse. Andrea and I proposed a shared horsey experience.
Max was bemused, and then increasingly anxious, to find himself in the middle of a Lindsay sandwich. He graciously bowed out and left the horse to the cowgirls.
The pumpkin patch we went to (Silveyville, in Dixon, for any interested parties) had a pumpkin painting station. Max painted his pumpkin a sinister and almost uniform black, with a few blue and yellow spots, just for contrast. This picture was taken moments before he accidentally dipped his hand in the paint, wiped his hand on his face and then his shirt, and consequently transformed into his alter-ego, Max, The Shirtless In Public Superhero. I couldn't really capture Max's alter-ego in action, because I had to attend to the various paint-related issues that his new identity brought into our lives, and therefore could not use the camera.
Look how happy Baby Sammy (Maggie's future spouse/punching bag) looks. Little does he know what's in store for him.
Andrea and I, who have posed together with our babies in less comfortable times, thought that an updated group photo might be nice. Look how both mothers are cheerfully not realizing what their respective offspring are up to down below. Maggie is all but throttling poor Sammy, for goodness' sake!
Oh, Sammy. I'll protect you as best I can, Buddy.
This is probably what Sammy saw in his dreams last night. Fatal attraction: Infant Edition.
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