The winter apparently set me back in my personal development and growth as a mother...
I had to re-learn this afternoon how to let my son get dirty without being bothered by it. You would not know by meeting me (or walking through my house, riding in my car, or peeking into my closet... ahem!) that I like things to be clean.
But I do. Not necessarily in the 'it looks clean but it's really not' sort of way... in the 'germ-and-dirt-free' way. This especially applies to my children. I love when they smell like baby soap or lotion, and when their hair is freshly shampooed. Just seeing dirt under their fingernails and cuticles sends shivers up my spine! Seriously. A messy mouth after a meal grosses me out. Rob had to talk me down during bath time as I swore I was going to find one of those nail brushes to use on the kids this summer during bath time. He said something about how it wouldn't serve Robbie as a boy to do that to him on a daily basis. I'm going to have to trust him.
So anyways, this afternoon Rob had some yard work left over from yesterday that he wanted to get done. Robbie was the dutiful son, frolicking nearby as daddy chopped and pulled and raked.
And then he fell into a muddy hole near the deck and (barely) skinned his knee. Thank goodness I had at least put his crocs on and not shoes I'd have to launder!
"Can you see my boo-boo?"
After careful examination and a few pokes to test its tenderness, we have determined that it is of the small variety.
Trying to get in on the yard action.
Um, sweetie? There are steps...?!
No longer just a spectator, Robbie begins to pull his weight and helps daddy rake one of the beds. Check out that form - one hand! Never mind that his tool is upside down.
Pondering life as a two year old while examining blades of grass.
"If Papa Livingston could see me now...!"
"Wha's DAT? BIG, BIG garbage bag!"
Daddy explains the process, and Robbie runs the clumps of grass and soil from daddy's bed to the yard waste bag.
You have to admire this intensity.
After daddy stopped handing off the clumps, Robbie resorted to just pulling up handfuls of grass and throwing them into the bag. He's a machine, people. You can't turn him off.
While playing in the yard, he kept miss-stepping and falling over into the hostas. I love that he is still a little clumsy. It means he's not all grown up yet!
He is so much stronger than he was last summer, and carried his sand and water table umbrella around the yard, cracking himself up.
I dusted off the sand and water table and Robbie enjoyed his first dig into the fresh sand!
Will you stop taking my picture? I'm trying to concentrate.
Then the young neighbor kids started to get into a very loud fight, and Robbie ran over to the side of the deck to see what was going down. He was jamming his face as far through the rails as he could, and when he turned around towards me he had lines on his cheeks. I'm surprised he didn't get any splinters.
I have my hands full this summer.