A Berry Interesting Adventure

It seemed so simple.  Leave our house around 9AM, bottle feed Blake on the way, play around at the "cow farm" (Berry Patch Farms), grab some pumpkins, and then head back home by lunch time so we'd be there in time for our family nap. 

And, what happened today was none of that.  We finally departed the Martin residence around 9:30 with a crying 7 week old and excited little boy in the back seat.  We stopped to get gas at BP and coffee at the connected McDonald's.  Dennis went into the dual-purpose building and re-emerged what seemed like decades later.  It seemed like decades, anyway, because my gas pump wasn't working (it kept saying, "SEE CASHIER") when I tried to pay at the pump.  Blake was crying in what I'm sure was her loudest voice ever and Connor then joined in the fun and started crying saying, "My want cow farm, mama... my want cow farm!"

Blake's cries didn't sound like they were going to subside so I offered what seemed like the only obvious solution:  I would sit in the back of my very teeny-tiny company car (Fusion) in between the kids and feed Blake as she sat in her car seat.  Once I climbed in over Connor's lap and was situated between them I realized that I wasn't able to pull the door closed.  We must've looked ridiculous because a lady at a nearby pump asked if I wanted her to close the door for me. 

And this is all before we were officially on the way to the Pumpkin Farm. 

Connor kept asking me, "What dat, Mama?"  I would tell him it's a tree or a car or a fence and then he raised his voice and started talking really loud.  I asked him to please be quiet.  And then I said it. 

"Connor, do you want to go to the cow farm?"

"Yes, Mama."

"Then don't yell.  Cows don't like it when you yell.  And we won't go to the cow farm if you keep yelling."

"OK Mama."

Did I really just say that?  Cows don't like it when you yell? 

I looked up front to see if Dennis heard what I said and closed my mouth before the words came out.  Because he was jamming out to the 90's radio station and was dancing to Coolio.

Two things happened in that moment:  I realized we aren't that cool anymore, even though we think we are.  Dennis dancing in the front seat and I am using cows to get my son to use his inside voice.  Really???

Somehow, we made it there, all three of us sitting in the back with the best looking chauffeur that I've ever seen. 

Once at Berry Patch Farms, we saw goats, pigs, and a few chickens.  There was one cow, but it was really small.  We took some pictures, chased Connor around, had Connors face painted, and then re-loaded the crazy bus for our 45 minute drive home.  For some reason I thought it made sense to leave the Baby Bjorn in the car and just carry Blake instead.  So both Dennis and I had our arms full.  Too full to bring home any pumpkins. 

We drove 45 minutes and dealt with all of this drama so that we could get our pumpkins. 

But we didn't bring even one home.  Nada.  Zippo.  ZERO. 

So, I'm just throwing it out there that we're going to cheat this year.  We're going to a nearby church next week to buy our pumpkins.