He gets the boys for Halloween. He took them to the pumpkin patch two weekends ago, which meant there was very little reason to go again. He had them this weekend so he carved pumpkins with them. Don't they all look so happy and engaged with their pumpkins. Doesn't matter that I am always the one who gets excited about carving pumpkins with them every year, and who initiates the event, assists with it all, and cleans up after it all. This year, he got to it first.
I fully realize the ridiculousness of pouting about a mess of pumpkins. 1) I should be glad I didn't have to deal with the mess this year. 2) The boys aren't going to remember in the future whose house they carved pumpkins at the year we split up; it SO doesn't matter. and 3) There are MUCH bigger things to worry about in the world and in our very own lives than some stupid pumpkins.
Nevertheless, It was painful. Yet another thing ripped from my life this year. Not the picture I wanted. Not them at their "house with Daddy." (I try to call it that, always so careful to avoid "my house" and "Daddy's house" but instead using the far more awkward "your house with Daddy" and "our house" when speaking about our homes so that they don't feel like their just a moving piece in our lives but that they have two homes which really belong to them.
I actually saw them a few minutes before this picture was taken (I stole it from Facebook). I dropped the MC off after taking him to a birthday party for the afternoon, left them all in his kitchen, about ready to carve the pumpkins. They love me, I know, but they hardly noticed me even leave; they were so focused on the pumpkins. I walked myself out the front door and right as I got to the door it started pouring down rain. FML I thought as I walked to the car to go back to work for the afternoon. I worked until close to 7. Then came home to a cold, dark, empty house. A far cry from the cheery pumpkin carving scene I would have liked to have been a part of.