Wild Thing Wondrous Wilderness Wednesday.

... or WTWWW for short.

Me: We're going to explore the creek trail. Them: Okie Me: We are not getting in the water. No water play today. Them: Okie Me: Seriously guys, we have like a gazillion errands to run and we're not running them with drippy pants and squishy shoes. Them: Okie Me: For real. Nobody gets in the water. I"m looking at you Ellie. Them: Got it. Five minutes after getting out the car ...  one is sitting in the creek ... one is covered in sand ... the other is two minutes away from falling in completely. Soooo, we scrapped our errands and just went swimming instead.

Liam was sketching, Ellie was making a rock cafe, and Gwyn was immersed in some sort of Sand Queen in a Sand Castle kind of game. Their interests collided every now and again, and then they would become reabsorbed in their own play. I just tiptoed out of the way and watched. Then I wondered, How long would they just play like this if I wasn't rushing in and rushing them away to the next thing? How long before they got bored or hungry or tired? So I let them go. I tried to ignore my rumbling stomach, my inclination to think and live ten steps ahead, and the knowledge that they were inevitably going to bring half the creek home with them, which would mean wet sand, pockets full of rocks, hosing them down before letting them inside, baths after that, and probably cereal for dinner because we're too ravenous after all that adventuring to cook a proper meal. And it took a little bit, but I was able to acknowledge all of those mama mutterings and then send them floating down the creek.

I saw them, working earnestly, digging, drawing, piling, splashing, exploring, and I just wanted to live whole heartedly in that moment with them. They were not thinking about the wet car ride home, or what they were going to eat once they realized they were hungry, or the baths they would have to take, or the loads of laundry waiting for them after such an afternoon as this. For three hours there was nothing but water and pebbles and sand and trees and sunshine.

Off the Beaten Path

I'm feeling proud of my creek diving, rock collecting, pine cone finding, mud pie making explorers. They've come a long way. I'm pretty sure we're all going to develop some sort of mutant superpowers after playing in that dirty creek, but it might just be worth seeing my pristine littles slathering themselves in silt and concocting mud pie creations. Liam named his muddiest masterpiece The chocolate chip, double flip, vanilla dip swirly swirl. It was "delicious". 

Picking Pumpkins

Grasping hands, our Braniff chain crossed the threshold of Penton Farms. My little ducklings huddled around my legs, surveying their surroundings. Lots of kids. Lots of parents. Lots of hay. Lots of warty gourds and twinkle lights. Some swings and tunnel slides, tractors, and a lot of laughter coming from a barn. Was that a ginormous pit of corn to play in? There was so much to explore. We started at the corn pit. Immediately, the shoes were off. They wiggled their toes in the dried corn cornels and then proceeded to slither like corn snakes, scoop up handfuls to dump on each other, and make corn angels (which might be the closest thing anyone gets to a snow angel in Alabama). 

The girls might have stayed in that crazy corn pit all day, but Liam had his eye on some dangerous looking shenanigans across the farm, and if Liam shows any interest in the thrilling or slightly risky, it is my duty to oblige. They only almost broke their arms about seven times. Ellie held her own while Gwyn and Liam were learning the ways of the mysterious ginormous cylindermadoodle, but once they got the hang of it and started gathering some serious speed (and Ellie was on the cusp of resembling a stuffed animal in a wash machine), she decided sitting on my hip would be a safer place for her.   

Then Liam wanted to scour the seventeen story hay bales. Again, how could I stand in the way of such a daring adventure? The girls were careful and cautious and so so brave. Liam was unstoppable. Like Spiderman unstoppable. Who was this boy scaling seventeen story hay?

The exploration hit a bit of a lull when our huge homeschool group got a few hay ride false alarms. They were ready for us. Then they weren't. Then they were. Then, whoops, eh, come over here and look at these chickens, and feed these cute baby goats. Ellie could not tear herself away from those wee baby goats. I bet all the money in my piggy bank she would have moved in and stayed the night if she'd had her way. This is where Liam started to get board, and Gwyn started to get super anxious that we were going to miss our hayride. She kept running off after our group, leaving us behind in the hay. Liam wanted those huge slides, he wanted those life sized hamster tubes, he wanted to swing, people! But Gwyn insisted on staying with the group. Ellie insisted on adopting at least three of those baby goats. 

Just before we finally caught a ride out to the pumpkin patch, our little (huge) homeschool group went through the mini corn maze. We hung back so as not to be squished or trampled or separated, to take our time, to take some pictures, to take a moment to enjoy those tall emerald green cornstalks swaying in the breeze. Lagging behind the group and losing sight of them as they turned a corner induced some major panic for my two biggest littles (mostly the middle little). Gwyn's head almost exploded when I asked them to cuddle up so I could snap a picture. Do they leave my side (gasp!) and catch up with the group!? Do they stay with me and possibly miss the hayride!? Woowee I've never seen Gwyn that stressed before. She was crazy nervous about missing out! Liam was like, Ekkk, so many people. Ellie was like, Baby goats baby goats baby goats.

Guess what!? We totally made the hayride with like, seventeen minutes to spare, so....

My only request was that they find a pumpkin that they totally loved, and that they could totally carry all by themselves.This was difficult because there were some seriously cool, seriously humungous pumpkins in that patch. I found a speckled cinderella pumpkin, Ellie a baby pumpkin, and Gwyn and Liam two green pumpkins with a few wisps of yellow and orange on the sides.

We never made it to the swings because after the pumpkin picking they only had eyes for the super slides. Once they felt the wind in their hair, and tasted the sweet exhilaration of going crazy fast but not too crazy fast, the rest of the afternoon was spoken for. Oh the fierce look on Gwyn's face when she emerged triumphantly from that tube slide. The giggles erupting from Ellie as she flew into the dirt over and over again, her hair standing on end, her eyes filled with wild pleasure. Liam's last three goes were head first (seriously, it's like pumpkin patches bring out this daring, autumnal alter ego)!

We were dirty and sweaty, with corn kernels in our pockets and hay in our hair. Our hearts were twisted up in pumpkin vines, lost in that tiny stressful corn maze, wild with super slide euphoria, and tucked in for the night with those sweet, sweet baby goats. October is a beautiful month to be in Alabama.