I love the month of October. There are fall festivals, pumpkin patches, and corn mazes galore. We're fortunate to have a corn maze right down the street from our house. Every September, I drive by and watch the corn grow higher and higher, until October finally arrives and the place opens up for business.
Last Saturday brought cool winds and fall weather, with the temperature in the low 70s. It was perfect corn maze weather. Anything cooler and your nose runs, your kids whine about how you forgot the sweatshirts, and your fingers start to ache from the cold. Anything hotter and you break out into a sweat, your kids whine about how you made them wear their sweatshirts, and your fingers start to cramp from carrying all those water bottles.
My three-year-old did much better this year. He made it halfway through the maze before I had to carry him. That's a huge improvement over last year, when he wanted to be carried before we'd even hit the first bend in the path. I swear every year I'm going to bring a stroller, but then I never do, so I really have no one to blame but myself.
It's really not so bad. I love being lost in the rows, surrounded by corn stalks. I can hear the distant sound of traffic, but I can't see any of the cars. My oldest leads the way through the turns, proud to be in charge. And once we see that glorious Exit sign, they can run off and jump in the corn pit, getting corn in their shoes, their shirts, even their underwear. If they're not too worn out after that, they can race each other through the hay bale maze. My youngest always has a miraculous recovery at this point and can run through the smaller maze for hours. Must be all that energy he saved up while I was carrying him. When they're all worn out, we troop home, the kids already asking when we can go again.
The next weekend, it's off to another corn maze or pumpkin patch. And then another. With so many things to do, it's hard to pick and choose. If only October was longer than thirty-one days.