Monday, June 25th, 2012...9:26 pm

Playing In The Mud

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Being a mother to a toddler means that when his hands scrape the mud, when his fingernails get crusted over with dirt, when his clothes get covered in brown sludge, you think, “Oh no, don’t do that. I’m going to have to wash you and your clothes.”

But, you stop yourself.

Instead you stare at him exploring the world with such passion and curiosity, with such drive and devotion to the mud that feels new and cold and sticky to his chubby hands.

And you say, “Go ahead and explore, dig, create. I can just wash you and your clothes.”

Being a mother to a toddler means that you watch your baby disappear before your eyes with each new hair that covers his baldness, with each roll that folds itself into the still soft baby skin, with each babbling phrase replaced by a definable sound.

It means you want to hover because the world is oh so dangerous. Because he could fall and hurt himself; because he will fall and hurt himself. Because he thinks he’s invincible and you wish that was a guaranteed truth.

But you let him wander farther and farther away, watching him from afar as he gains his footing, finds his own spot, looks at the world for the first of many times and sees all that lays in front of him.

linking up with Heather at the Extraordinary Ordinary for Just Write.

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3 Comments

  • This reminds me of a scrapbook page I did on my son when he was a toddler sitting covered in mud. It was actually the only time he ever did that so I am glad I captured it. Both my kids were born with not wanting to get their hands dirty. Weird, I know. Nice to visit you here through the EO. And btw, my son is a teen now, it is true about what everyone tells you . . . time goes by in a blink and you stand there wondering where it went.

  • I know, I often need to remind myself that learning is messy and life is stain-worthy.

  • They grow so fast and before you know it the mud is gone and replaced with aftershave. I LOVE the little years

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