Here's what I want to know: What happened to these little pumpkins?
Seriously, where did they go?
Because, back then, we would take this kind of fall weekend and go on a hayride. We would pick out pumpkins and take long moseying walks. We'd stomp through the leaves and then pick them up and look at their veins and make crayon rubbings of them. Maybe someone would throw a tantrum, maybe not. But life had a bountiful, easy quality; what we lacked in emotional regulation we made up for in time.
Those squishy cheeks. The little buttons I helped fasten. The chirpy, high voices. The feathery gosling hair.
It's enough to make a gal's womb ache.
This weekend is beautiful--I know this because I have seen a lot of it through the car windows as I shuttle people hither and yon. A small sampling of activities: Last night G and Sam went to the ward campout in New Hampshire and the girls had a high school football game. Today Maddy is off early on a seminary field trip to Vermont and Lauren is taking her final SATs. After picking up everyone, they come home for a bit and then all have plans tonight in various places.
Where's the justice? Just when they get so interesting and potty-trained (okay, that was a while ago) and hilarious and can make their own sandwiches, they are almost suddenly scarce around here. It's true what they say: the (early) days are long but the (later) years are short.
In the meantime, I guess I'll head to Costco. They do, after all, still manage to eat quite a bit around here.
p.s. I'm totally going to make them recreate that photo sometime soon. Humor a mama, kids.
. . .
Listen: Ashokan Farewell ~ The Civil War documentary