My favorite time of year is here: the holiday season. Pumpkin patches, hayrides, corn mazes, fall festivals and all the little traditions I look forward to sharing with our kids.
There is something special about watching them experience it all. You get to see a little of that childhood magic again through their eyes.
And if you’re anything like me, you start imagining the day before it even happens. You picture the activities, the laughter, and, of course, a few family photos to remember it by. You put thought and love into making it special.
But taking kids somewhere doesn’t always look like the picture you had in your head. It doesn’t always look like the pictures you see online, either.
This weekend was a reminder of that.
We took our kids to our favorite pumpkin patch, a family tradition we look forward to every year. We piled into the van and excitedly talked about what everyone wanted to do.
Then we arrived, and it was as though someone flipped a switch.
They could hardly contain themselves. There was running, arguing, difficulty listening, and very little interest in everyone standing still for a family photo.
I could feel my frustration building. I had been looking forward to this day, and suddenly I was taking their behavior personally. For a moment, I wanted to say, “Okay, fine! I don’t want a picture with you guys anyway!”
That was the hurt part of me wanting to speak. I wanted a memory with them, and in that moment, their resistance felt like rejection. So I stepped away for a minute to cool down.
Once I had a little space, I started to see something beyond my own disappointment. They were excited. They were enjoying being together. They were surrounded by activities, noise, people, and things they wanted to explore. I had arrived with a plan. They had arrived ready to play.
That didn’t make the arguing or not listening okay. But it helped me understand what might be underneath it. Excitement and overwhelm can exist at the same time, and kids are still learning how to manage both. Honestly, sometimes I am, too.
I was asking them to manage their feelings while struggling with my own. That realization helped me pause and try to see the day through their eyes. And it reminded me of one of the most valuable things parenting continues to teach me: patience.
I wish I could say patience came naturally every time. It doesn’t. Sometimes I have to stop, take a breath, and give myself a minute before I can respond the way I want to.
I’m learning that I can feel disappointed without making the kids responsible for fixing that feeling. I can want a family photo and still recognize that their enjoyment of the day might look different from mine.
There is room for my feelings, too. Planning outings takes effort, and it’s understandable to feel frustrated when things become difficult. Giving our children understanding doesn’t mean we have to pretend we never get overwhelmed ourselves.
It also doesn’t mean letting go of boundaries. We still need our kids to stay close, listen, and treat each other with kindness. Understanding their behavior helps us decide how to respond; it doesn’t remove our responsibility to guide them.
When we got home, we talked about those expectations. We talked about listening, being kind to one another, and the consequences we would follow through on if those expectations weren’t met.
Then we gave ourselves a chance to enjoy the rest of the evening. We carved pumpkins, played our favorite Halloween songs, and talked. We didn’t have to carry the frustration into every remaining moment of the day. I’m glad we left room for that.
Sometimes I think we put so much pressure on family outings because we know these years matter. We want to make memories. We want our kids to have a childhood filled with traditions they’ll someday look back on fondly.
But the memories are being made even when everyone won’t smile at the same time. Even when someone needs a break. Even when we have to stop and work through a difficult moment. Our day was normal. And normal doesn’t mean perfect.
There were moments I would have liked to go differently, but there was also time together, a tradition we love, and an evening spent carving the pumpkins we brought home.
Parenting keeps giving me opportunities to practice patience, often right when I feel I have the least of it. I’m still learning how to loosen my expectations, hold the boundaries that matter, and let a difficult moment pass without allowing it to decide the whole day. And even in the middle of that learning, I feel deeply blessed to be their mom. The family photo still matters to me. But so does the way we feel when we remember the day.
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