BUTTERFLY BLURBS.

autumn

"Charlie, if you throw another handful of guts on the rug Mommy is going to start crying." A deep breath fills my lungs, down to my diaphragm, and expands my back. It should be centering, calming even, but alas. There's not a shred of remorse on my baby's sweet little face as she flings another clump of slimy, wet pumpkin guts onto the floor.

I can hear Harry laughing as I lower my forehead to the dining room table that I'm bent over. His hands run softly up and down my back, and it doesn't take long for Birdie to start laughing along with him. "I'll get the guts, you go stir." He kisses my cheek with another giggle and it's all the motivation I need to push myself up and relocate to the kitchen.

For some ungodly reason, we decided to stuff every fall activity imaginable into one day.

When I woke up this morning it was still dark, the days are much shorter in October than the summer months. Harry tries to stay quiet after his morning workouts but he rarely succeeds, and this morning was no exception. I woke to a slew of profanities coming from his beautiful mouth as he cradled his foot and flopped onto the bed.

"Oh I've done it now, it's broken. It's absolutely broken." He sounded so pitiful so early in the morning.

"Stubbed it again?" I said through a yawn.

"No I've ruined it, it's crumpled."

"Okay, drama queen, get back in bed." I folded the covers back and he slid in next to me, still holding his toe with his head on my stomach.

Our room was dark and warm, on really quiet mornings we could hear the ocean. The waves kissed the shore while my fingers brushed through Harry's damp hair. I felt him relax, his head resting heavier against me. His voice was low and rich, warm breath brushing over the exposed skin beneath my belly button when he spoke again. "We should go to the pumpkin patch soon, Birdie is old enough to help carve one this year."

Thus began our fall extravaganza.

Within an hour we were up and dressed, coffee in hand, and piled in the car. Our first stop was a tiny little donut stand and half a dozen treats that varied in fall flavors. Birdie was particularly fond of the maple bar because she has excellent taste.

We drove for quite a while, away from the coast and up to an apple orchard that was straight out of a movie. It was perfect, rows and rows of perfectly uniform trees, all growing at almost the exact same speed. There were a few groups of people there but no one bothered us as we made our way through.

Harry was almost fully covered, with sunglasses and a new beanie on so he didn't draw attention. He held Charlie up on his shoulders so she wouldn't trip and fall on the uneven grass. The discarded apples made the ground a safety hazard for anyone with less-than-perfect coordination, so naturally, I went on my ass twice.

I could have watched the two of them for days. Charlie loved being up so high and touching the leaves. She would pull them off and yell "Daddy! Daddy look!" in her sweet little voice. She can't say her "L" sounds very well yet so it comes out more like "Daddy wook!" While she shoved a dirty leaf into his face. If she wobbled she would get scared and wrap both her arms around the top of Harry's head which made me laugh every time without fail. She has a vice grip, I know it had to give him a headache, but he never complained.

He'd pick an apple and hold it up for her to inspect, she would decide whether or not it had worms and then he would put it in the basket. We have no idea how she determined if it was worm infested or not, but regardless, any of her rejects went in my basket.

The sun made them glow while they walked in front of me. It's a strange sensation, to just watch your heart walk around outside your body like that.

We left the orchard with two giant buckets of apples, three cups of homemade apple cider, and a camera roll full of photos that made me smile and my chest squeeze.

The next stop was a pumpkin patch closer to home, which also included a corn maze, a hayride, and a petting zoo. I've never left a place more exhausted in all my life.

I swear to god Harry has some kind of secret superpower of energy storage. If I asked him he would say it's a product of his vegetables and his rigorous exercise routine and then I would stick my tongue out at him, so there's just no point.

By the time we made it home, I was covered in dirt and sweat and had several pieces of hay stuck in my hair, but it was well worth it. I had thought that perhaps we would save the carving for tomorrow and we could have a quiet and calm night, silly me.

Harry had the table covered in newspapers and the top cut off her pumpkin before I even made it out of the shower. I didn't even know we had newspapers. Birdie was stripped of all clothing and elbow-deep in guts when I walked out of the bedroom.

So now I'm stirring tomato soup and making sure the grilled cheese sandwiches don't burn while Charlie smears pumpkin guts all over herself and Harry sings along to the Halloween playlist coming through our speakers.

Tomorrow there will be a stain on the rug, but that's okay. Tonight there will be giggles and ghost printed pj's. There will be a comforting dinner eaten at a table covered in slimy newspaper and smiles on our faces. There will be a dance party to the Monster Mash and a moment where my eyes meet Harry's and we remember how we got to where we are now. There will be a softness to his eyes while he leans in to kiss me, and a glint in his eyes when our daughter squeals at her turn.

Tonight there will be a wiggle worm between me and Harry in bed, and she'll wheeze in her sleep like her father does. She'll end up sideways and sweaty, probably with a fist full of my hair, and it will be perfect. Harry will trace patterns on my hip or my cheek and lull me to sleep. The air will be crisp as it breezes through the curtains, and the house will smell like apples for days.

I couldn't ask for anything better.