Perfect Pumpkin Patch Photos: What About the Rest of Us?
Pumpkin spice with a side of parenting guilt and social comparison
Hello readers, now that I have written this newsletter for over a year I’ve written quite a lot. From time to time it’s nice to revisit something that many of you have likely not read before. This is a repost from last fall that still holds.
Fall is here with all the seasonal activities like apple picking, pumpkin patches, and Halloween festivities. These pastimes come with adorable photos of little ones (and big ones) sitting in pumpkin patches, sprawling out on inviting leaf piles, and wearing produce-themed costumes. It can be fun to share these cute images. For some of us though, other people’s picture-perfect moments are reminders of how not-perfectly things are going in our lives. A reminder of how much our family does not fit the frame. For some families, these popular outings do not go perfectly or even at all. In modern parenthood, we have developed expectations around life that are hard to meet—no matter who you are—and can be even more impossible for families living with constraints related to neurodiversity, physical and mental health concerns, financial stressors, and so on.
Social media has created a public measuring stick for families and amplified opportunities for comparison to new levels. However, we can’t lay this solely on social media’s shoulders. We all come with our own stories—and baggage—from our families, culture, and community. It may be about living up to our memories of childhood magic, or the absence of grand memories that fuels us to look outward at “Instagram-perfect” fall outings. Many families value the opportunity to create and share memorable childhood experiences, there is nothing wrong with that. If it serves you and your family, carry on. However, some parents and families experience these expectations as another source of stress.
Seasonal events create practical challenges for all families. Young children may not be ready for big events that disrupt crucial meal and nap times. Some families face challenges with demanding work schedules and financial constraints that prevent them from being able to attend events. And for some, there are additional invisible calculations that need to be factored in. In some families, the unseen demands are too great. Sensory overwhelm, safety concerns for children who have difficulty staying with adults, and tolerating unpredictable environments can mean a no-go. Not all settings can fully accommodate the needs of disabled adults and children. Not to mention that many events are associated with food which is difficult to navigate for those with feeding differences, food allergies, and certain types of medical conditions. And then there is the reality that for some parents they just don’t have the mental bandwidth, internal resources, or desire to deal with these overwhelming events.
Mix these internal and external expectations, the comparison trap, and differing life constraints, and you have the perfect setup for a feeling of failure, with a side of isolation. Some may feel like they “need” to go to the apple orchard or the pumpkin patch because it’s what they are “supposed” to do. If their experiences don’t look like the perfect pictures, it feels like they are not measuring up. The truth is that all families are worthy, no matter what they are or aren’t doing. Your family celebrations in their honest form should be welcomed in the parenting space. Unfortunately, it doesn’t always feel like the invite is there.
For many reasons in these modern times, we are lacking the support system we need to thrive. The parenting village hasn’t shown up for a lot of people. I had an experience where I was acutely aware that I was very much not in my parenting village, despite being among fellow parents and their kids. Like not remotely near the village. I was more like the house on the outskirts of town. On the far edge…the one people scurry past. The details of what happened were unimportant, and after I took care of my triggered adolescent memories, I could tell what was missing. I didn’t have trust at that moment that I could safely land with these adults. I could not trust that I or my family would be accepted. It felt like these people all went to the pumpkin patch and it was perfect, which is probably untrue, but the divide felt very real at the moment.
My family’s stories about the pumpkin patch go differently. I have come to know that this is okay and wonderful. Our “imperfect” stories are our family’s reality. Our pumpkin patch experiences are great not because they are perfect, but because we go with people from our village—good friends who know and support us. We have trust in these friends. Everyone deserves these types of friends. I believe there is space for all the stories, mine, yours, and someone else’s. They don’t need to all be the same stories. That would be so boring. We don’t have to be going through the same things to connect in this parenting journey. But showing up authentically goes a long way.
Okay...village metaphors, trust, and pumpkin patches...I am bringing it back together, I promise. Imagine if there was space for more stories to exist. The perfect pumpkin patch is a type of story but there are so many more out there. If you have a great time at the pumpkin patch and have some great pictures to share, do it. There is no need for guilt for having a good time or not experiencing the challenges other families encounter. And if you don’t go to the pumpkin patch or you have a crap time, you are worthy to share your experience too, and please do. When we hold space for all the stories, the great stuff, the challenges, and the different paths we find ourselves on, we can better appreciate the whole constellation of parenting experiences. When we can trust that there is space for all of it, it makes for a pretty awesome village. All the houses on the edge of town included.
If I could go just one day without comparing my life to someone else's, I think that would be a form of freedom my mind can't even fathom. Thank you always for keeping us sane and grounded and appreciated. Your work is so needed in this busy kaleidoscope of life.
Teddy Roosevelt said "comparison is the thief of joy," and, as you said, social media is rife with comparison. I left Instagram in April and am off Facebook about 95% of the time, and I am so much happier for it. Those perfect moments are just moments, and dwelling on them doesn't help. Focusing on what is is so much more useful than focusing on what isn't. Thanks for another beautiful essay.