When Evelyn gets excited about something, she doesn’t stop talking leading up to whatever project or event we might be doing, laying out plans and specifics and running everything by me: “Ok, mom? Does that sound good? I think it will work great.” She gets all matter of fact, I think she’s worried that I might drop the ball. She all the sudden turns into this little planner and adult. But then she squeals in excitement when I bring out the pumpkins and gets covered in paint and says things like “cretend” instead of “pretend” and I’ve got my little girl back.
Theo, on the other hand, does not concern himself with the how or the why or the when. He just shows up when all is ready and gets down to business. His lower lip sticks out as he has tunnel vision for only what is in front of him. He has no regard for his clothes or his surroundings. For such an active boy, I love his concentration when he gets really engrossed in something that interests him.
Despite the mess paint always makes, seeing those parts of their personalities emerge was worth it. Yet, we never painted pumpkins growing up, we always carved them. So I’m not sure why I decided to switch things up this year. Probably my complete dislike for the slimy insides of pumpkins. And, my idea of what I want to carve never, ever turns out how I envision it will turn out. Plus, my kids + carving knives did not seem like a safe idea. So paint we did. We started about 11 in the morning, although by the shadows cast it looks more like late afternoon. If I had waited until after naps we would’ve run out of sun. It wasn’t a big ordeal, just me with my camera, the kids content with their sticky, colored fingers and Matt peeking out through the window. Meltdowns ensued when I called it a day because the red jar of paint was turning into a grayish, mucky mess. But the air was light, catching the autumn colors. The traffic below was our soundtrack.