I like this Fall Thing.

Is this what fall is like? If so, sign me up. We didn't have a very hot summer, but even still the temperatures in the 60s and 70s have been fantastic. 

I think I won the Worst Attitude in History Award when we moved to New Jersey. Just a refresher--we moved from 70-degree temps in Jacksonville to freezing cold winter temps in New Jersey this past January. I was six months pregnant and really unhappy about the move. Unfortunately, I let too many people around me know as well. I really regret that.

New Jersey has really grown on me since then. I would live here forever if it weren't such an expensive place to live. But it's beautiful, and there is so much to do. New Jersey gets a bad rap, but once you're here, it can really win you over.

But ask me again in winter. I might be singing a different tune. Heather + Winter = Heather in footie pajamas and 6,000 blankets while scared to drive, wondering if I'll ever be able to see people again. Not my best look.

Anyway, last week we went raspberry picking at a local farm. We also went on a hayride and will be returning for a corn maze.

School has started, and June is happppppppppy about that. We're all happy. I have this part inside of me that wants to be a homeschooling mom. I know that seems out of character for me, but it's there. So when June was home the last four weeks, I was excited to all be together all of the time. And we enjoyed together. And then it became apparent that I'm not a homeschooling mom. And that June is not a homeschooling child. And that school is a good place. Especially since she begged to go everyday and started regressing on her potty training.

I've been trying to work on doing June's hair better this school year because I'm terrible at hair. I cannot make a straight part. Truly. And I can almost french braid. Like maybe 1 out of 5 times I attempt it. I think I just need one more finger on each hand, and then I would have it. So I've been working on some styles that don't require braiding. 

June started kindergarten this year, but she will be in the same self-contained special ed class as last year. It only has a few kids in it and includes kids from Pre-K, Kindergarten and 1st grade. 

I guess you could say she's growing up! Shooting up like a weed. Not really, she has the Jolley girl genes and is not growing very fast. But this is a weed in our front yard that I made her take a picture next to in order to show how big the weed is, not how big June is.

And Day 2 of school:

Then this past weekend, we drove 2.5 hours to go to Lancaster County, Pennsylvania, in order to see Amish Country.

Side note: When did I become my parents? It doesn't seem too long ago that my dad would call a family council, where he would hand each of us five kids a perforated piece of paper on which he had typed our vacation itinerary using WordPerfect software (of which he was a huge fan). And I would enjoy tearing off the perforated edges while he discussed the seemingly endless details of our family trip for what seemed like years. And we stuck to that itinerary. I have to hand it to my parents. They set goals for us to leave early in the morning, and we left on time. We did not take breaks to stretch our legs or get fresh air or even eat sometimes. There was lots of in-the-car eating that took place. We might stop at a park for a picnic lunch the first day and would maybe get to stay in a Motel 6 with a pool, in which we could only swim if we had taken a 30-minute nap in the car so my mom could have 30 minutes of quiet. 30 minutes was the rule, and my parents did not care one iota if you really slept or not, as long as they did not have to hear words coming out of your face for that half-hour. It's a great rule I want to use with my own children.

Since I've already digressed--I remember a long family road trip where my dad stuck to the itinerary to the point where my little 8-year-old self thought I would perish of starvation. And when I say long family road trip, I mean that we often drove from Missouri to Utah (like every summer) or other faraway places, like Canada. We did all of the church history sites in upstate New York, and another time we went to Washington, D.C., where we all pooped out before my dad could realize his one dream of seeing the Supreme Court (besides his other unfulfilled dream of seeing Four Corners). Anyway, on one of these particular trips, my dad had scheduled that we could stop driving at noon for lunch, and since it was the second day of driving and the cooler was empty, we were going to get fast food! Glorious!

We were all counting down the minutes until noon and thinking of the amazing hamburgers and nuggets we were about to ingest when my dad crossed a time zone. And we were back at 11:00 instead of noon. And my dad said, "Only one more hour until lunch!" And he meant it.

I thought that was cruel then. Now, I think it is parenting genius.

All this to say that I used to be the world's biggest procrastinator but I'm slowly becoming a planner. I planned an itinerary for our Amish County trip and sent it to our friends who were going with us, and it was like Doug Beck lived on through me.

This is just page one, for a one-day trip.

Honestly, the planning went way better than I could have thought, and now I have to apologize to my dad for being such a turd sandwich as a kid.

We rolled into Lancaster at 10:30 and went to Amish Village where the kids fed goats, horses, mules and pigs and played on an Amish playground. In fact, almost every location we stopped at had animals and playgrounds, so the kids played all day. We took a tour given by a formerly Amish-turned Mennonite woman, who gave what was probably a lovely tour in which I would have asked the most questions, but instead had to quickly exit and take care of a crying baby. 

Next, we picked up sandwiches and salads at Isaac's Restaurant which is located next to one of the only remaining steam trains in the country. There was also a fudge shoppe where Amish candy was sold, and you know we got in on that action.

Next, we took a horse and buggy ride. If you go, I totally recommend this place:

True to form, there was an Amish-built playground here too, as well as several animals to pet.

In the end, Dan decided to make the huge sacrifice of sitting out on the buggy ride full of loud, little children so that he could watch Harris.

Here we are leaving him behind. Doesn't he look so sad?

Here's the row of across from the row where June and I were sitting, filled with Gwen and our friends, the Wilkes. We also had Sophie Wilkes sitting up front with the driver.

There's June's arm in the pink hoodie. I kept having to grab her hand and pull it down because she kept whispering to the driver, "I like your beard" while attempting to stroke it. And yes, I asked him if I could take this picture, and he said that was fine.

Again, I had a million questions for our sweet driver but between the cars whizzing past us and the kids yelling from excitement, I could hardly hear a thing. I did hear him say that most Amish houses start out as ranch houses, but when their families get too big, they simply tear the roof off and build another level and then put the roof back on.

And here were the cars passing us as we were on the shoulder of the road.

Also, the Amish live among everyone else. I thought they lived in their own communities, and maybe they did a long time ago, but where we were you would see an Amish house next to a non-Amish house all of the time. So interesting!

One day, I'm going to go back all by myself, and I'm going to ask all the questions I want.

Next, we went to Oregon Dairy where the kids could play and eat ice cream. No pictures. My bad.

Then we drove home. I drove, and everyone else slept, and it was really nice.

The end.