I do love a tradition, particularly during the colder months, and I am on a pretty stubborn path to fill Alfie's childhood with lots of little seasonal traditions. Our second year at the pumpkin patch only cemented this because there was genuinely something a little emotional about being back in the same place and seeing how much Alfie had changed (and quite frankly, how much mine and Gary's eyebags have decreased) in a year. Not to disparage the baby years but I can't help feel that this parenting gig gets a whole lot more fun as they get older. The amount of things Alfie could now engage with - we climbed the tire tower, crawled through the tunnels, had a ride in a wheelbarrow, pushed the wheelbarrow and, let me tell you, the rideable tractors and enormous inflatable tractor went down an absolute treat for our tractor-obsessed kid.
I mean, okay sure, he refused to wear wellies and had a tantrum when Mummy wouldn't give him her full attention because she was ordering churros (priorities ya know?), and we did have to make a swift exit when he jumped into the biggest swamp of mud in his trainers and, surprise surprise, did not enjoy the feeling of mud seeping into his shoes but you gotta take the rough with the smooth. We picked a pumpkin and felt like we were providing our child with wholesome childhood experiences. And I got to eat churros. Everyone's (sort of) a winner.
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