Here is what we do each October:We celebrate a birthday!
Our boy is three! Oh, what a day for Oliver --tons of attention from his greatest admirers, those loving grandparents and aunts and uncles, a healthy dose of sugar, and a bunch of noisy new toys to drag around the house. Jenny turned out a very impressive and delicious robot cake. Look at all those buttons!
Oliver imitating Dick Van Dyke again in Mary Poppins (one man band)
His new word is "actually" and he uses it to start any sentence, apropos of nothing. "Actually daddy, I need you to get my puzzle down." or "actually, I used my blocks to build a straw house" (in reference to his 3 Little Pigs obsession).
Zaeda watched her brother's birthday party in delight. Like her brother, she does just fine in a crowd, making the rounds and getting kissed and played with. She's sleeping a bit better, though she still wakes up hungry a couple times a night. She is sitting up pretty well by herself. She loves to be pulled to a standing position. The drooling is pretty heavy now, but so far, we haven't seen any teeth come through, though she's clearly working in it, chewing on toys and clothes and hands. If you're not careful with her, she'll gum up an arm and give you a hickey.
Zaeda had her 4 month check-up at the beginning of the month. Here are her stats:
Height- 2' 1.75" (90%)
Weight- 14 lb 8 oz (62%)
Head Circumference- 16.26" (53%)
We decorate the house
Jenny and I cut out paper ghosts and monsters so that Oliver could decorate them. Hilariously, he decorated the front of a monster, then turned it over and said "he needs a bottom" and that's what he drew.
We journey to the pumpkin farm
We try a new pumpkin farm each year and I'm starting to think we should settle on just one so we know what to expect and where to go. Each is a complicated and somewhat disorganized melee as some family homestead is flooded with thousands of strangers for a few select weekends of the year. We approach each one ready to play the part of livestock, not knowing where we'll be driven, when we'll find food, or a place to rest.
Where will the hordes of city-dwellers just like us park their cars? In the muddy field? In a gravel lot? Along the street? I guess we'll ask that teenager over there with the boots and the orange flag.
How do we get to the pumpkin field? Walk? Tractor? Miniature train? Boat? Will we get a wheelbarrow? A wagon? Are tickets up front or or do we pay the smiling kid at the head of the line? Hang on to something. Thanks for the ride!
What'll everything cost? This lumpy 12-pound pumpkin is ten bucks, you say? OK, here you go! May we pay you $2 to pose in front of this hay bale and scarecrow? Thanks! Mmmm, Kettle corn! A muddy corn maze! Let's pet those goats and bunnies! Yeah, the porta potties! A line of people just like me!
We do have fun at these places, but I can't help but feel hustled. I grew up on a sprawling farm in the country, and now I pay through the nose for the idea that we're introducing our little city kids to a farm-like experience. Really, it's a circus -- a carnival of kitchy and overpriced manufactured farm-like cliches. Where is the quiet? The piles of fresh manure?
What I really feel is envy. What fun it would be to run this show! Too bad our family place is so far from the city...
In general, he’s goofing off and playing and grumbling like any almost-three-year-old. For the most part it’s entertaining. We recently watched “Mary Poppins.” Remember the part where Dick Van Dyke pulls down his pants to dance like a penguin? Jenny showed him how to do it himself and now he announces "I’m going to do the Mary Poppins penguin dance!” and pulls his pants to his ankles and bounces around. We agree that we should try not to let him do that outside of the house. 
