The Carving Station

It's been a while since I carved a pumpkin, a year at least (haha), but I remember it being a messy affair. I wanted Mads to be able to participate in as much of the carving process as possible, and since I couldn't hand her a knife, that meant her job would be pumpkin gutter. But how do you let a 17 month old gut a pumpkin when you have wall to wall beige carpet?

Allow me to present to you the carving station. I know I'm a genius, you really don't have to tell me.

After stripping Mads down to just a diaper, I plopped her in the kiddie pool with her pumpkin.

After Daddy ever so gently removed the top of the big pumpkin, Mads got very curious:

Curiosity quickly turned to revulsion, as she yelled "Ew! Ew! Ewww!" when Daddy plopped the first handful of pumpkin guts a little too close to Madelynn's delicate footsies:

Repulsion turned to fear:

And fear turned to screaming mess when one tiny seed landed on her foot:

After this, you couldn't have paid Mads to get back in that pool, and my plans to take a million pictures of Babe elbow deep in pumpkin innards were squashed. Jeffrey and I were clearly on our own.

Madelynn observed the rest of the pumpkin carving from a safe distance:

The end result? A pumpkin that Mads is happy to walk past and yell "Cat!" at 500 times in 20 minutes.

Just as long as she doesn't have to touch it.