Do you know what day of my boys’ childhoods I dislike the most? Pumpkin Carving Day.
Sure, I have disliked the days when the boys cried during doctor visit shots, I have disliked the days that they have come home with hurt feelings over a temporarily struggling friendship, I’d even go so far as to say that I hated the day that Finn had to be taken to the ER for stitches after a bad gash in head. Seeing the boys sad or hurt…or disappointed or frustrated…is hard. It breaks my heart a little every time. My dislike for those moments in their childhood is based on my feeling so bad for them.
My crazy dislike for pumpkin carving day. Well, that’s a whole other beast. My dislike for pumpkin carving day is purely based on me feeling so bad for, well, me.
I am ALL for forced family fun. If you read any of my posts, you surely already know that. I am all about quality time and making the most of vacations, weekends, holidays, warm sunny days, and what have you. 4th of July traditions…fantastic! Christmas traditions…Absolutely…favorite days of the year. Boys’ birthdays….Pinterest hear me roar. All things pumpkin….sigh. NOT my thing.
That’s not completely true, actually. I love the day that involves picking out the pumpkins. I like arranging the pumpkins on the front porch. I like the way the pumpkins look. And, I love pumpkin seeds. I just hate carving the freakin’ pumpkins.
Without fail, it starts as a 4-person gig. Without fail, it ends up as a solo show. The boys go off to play and check in occasionally to offer advice, support, or constructive criticism. When they’re happy with the job I’m doing it almost makes up for the slimy, pulpy mess that I’ve become. Almost. But, not really.
This year, it wasn’t going to happen again. So last night, I made a deal. Sure…I’ll carve the pumpkins…but, you guys are separating the seeds from the pulp. Well, that lasted about a minute. During that minute our neighbor came home and told us, “You all look like a scene straight from a Norman Rockwell painting while carving pumpkins together on the front porch.” Right. A mere 30 seconds later the boys were grossed out…and off playing street hockey. My husband disappeared to see if the rabbit would eat a chunk of pumpkin. And, I was alone again, naturally.
That’s it. Sharp knives be damned….next year, I’m drinking a pumpkin beer while the boys carve their own jack-o-lanters. Doubtful.
Last year, in preparation for pumpkin carving day, I got my revenge ahead of time. Does that even make any sense? Knowing full-well that I’d be carving the pumpkins solo, I made the boys lug the pumpkins they wanted all the way home from downtown Rockport. I’m still laughing. If that mean parenting moment interests you, you can read it here.
https://goodmorninggloucester.wordpress.com/2014/10/22/the-not-so-great-pumpkin-caper/
Good Morning Gloucester 
Ya know…….I always hated carving pumpkins for the very same reasons as stated above. This year we’re not carving any. First time ever! One kid is in college and the other is about to have her 2nd baby any day now and they’ve started their own “family tradition” by carving their own pumpkins. So… my wife just put them out on the steps and we didn’t carve them. Though part of me doesn’t miss it at all another part laments the passing on of this tradition. It’s one of the many subtle changes in life that one goes through as one becomes a “senior citizen”. Don’t get old, it’s not all it’s cracked up to be.
My advice… though you may “hate” it (and I’m sure you don’t) the day will come all too very soon where you won’t be doing it because there’s no kids around to be “grossed out”, no husband to escape to feed the rabbit, the kids have begun their own family tradition of carving pumpkins, or whatever. It happens so fast you hardly know where the years went.
Hang on to those moments as long as you can because all too soon they will only be memories.
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