Every year on my birthday, my aunt, Spencer and I go to the pumpkin patch. It all started three years ago when my brother had a volleyball game on my birthday, my parents were going to his game, and I was a bit bummed out. So my aunt took off work and we decided to go to the pumpkin patch. Spencer's hair had just gotten long enough for pig tails and I was a little obsessed with them- so in they went.
The next year, my brother had a volleyball game again and so my aunt and I decided we'd make a tradition of it and go back to the pumpkin patch. I thought it would be cute to put her in pig tails again so the tradition would continue, even though she hadn't worn them in awhile. Since we had the tradition going, we went again this year on my (ugh!) 29th birthday. Well, Spencer hasn't worn pig tails since the last time we went, but I didn't care, a tradition was a tradition.
So now I have three years of Spencer wearing pig tails at the pumpkin patch on October 22 and I'm so glad that I do, because they are the only constant thing about her. I knew that she looked different than the first year we went, but I couldn't get over how much she'd grown up in since last year.
I'm ready for her to stop growing up now and just stay the same for awhile. Me too, for that matter...