Do you know what day of my boys’ childhoods I dislike the most? Â 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. Â Seeing the boys sad or hurt…or disappointed or frustrated…is hard. Â It breaks my heart a little every time. Â My dislike for those moments in their childhood is based on my feeling so bad for them.
My crazy dislike for pumpkin carving day. Â Well, that’s a whole other beast. Â My dislike for pumpkin carving day is purely based on me feeling so bad for, well, me.
I am ALL for forced family fun. Â If you read any of my posts, you surely already know that. Â I am all about quality time and making the most of vacations, weekends, holidays, warm sunny days, and what have you. Â 4th of July traditions…fantastic! Â Christmas traditions…Absolutely…favorite days of the year. Â Boys’ birthdays….Pinterest hear me roar. Â All things pumpkin….sigh. Â NOT my thing.
That’s not completely true, actually. Â I love the day that involves picking out the pumpkins. Â I like arranging the pumpkins on the front porch. Â I like the way the pumpkins look. Â And, I love pumpkin seeds. Â I just hate carving the freakin’ pumpkins.
Without fail, it starts as a 4-person gig. Â Without fail, it ends up as a solo show. Â The boys go off to play and check in occasionally to offer advice, support, or constructive criticism. Â When they’re happy with the job I’m doing it almost makes up for the slimy, pulpy mess that I’ve become. Â Almost. Â But, not really.
This year, it wasn’t going to happen again. Â So last night, I made a deal. Â Sure…I’ll carve the pumpkins…but, you guys are separating the seeds from the pulp. Â Well, that lasted about a minute. Â 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.” Â Right. Â A mere 30 seconds later the boys were grossed out…and off playing street hockey. Â My husband disappeared to see if the rabbit would eat a chunk of pumpkin. Â 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. Â Doubtful.
Last year, in preparation for pumpkin carving day, I got my revenge ahead of time. Does that even make any sense? Â 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. Â I’m still laughing. Â 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/

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