dirt

The boy has discovered dirt. 

We've been spending more time outside lately so he's had more opportunities to explore our backyard. But our yard is tiny so there's not much to see. Except, on one side along the fence is a dirt ditch. It doesn't get much sun and tends to get water-logged when it rains. It's small too, only about 3 inches deep and about 4 feet long. And it's still muddy from the rain we had last weekend. 

Yesterday, Connor was picking out rocks and tasting the dirt on them. Then he decided that wasn't quite adventurous enough so he picked a spot and sat down in the middle of the ditch. He sat and sat and sat, poking at the mud, picking some up, plopping it back down. And then it hit him, he could put it on himself! He painted his legs and arms with mud, seeing what kind of lines and shapes he could make. 30 minutes were spent this way, playing in the mud. 

Now supposedly kids are supposed to eat a pound of dirt before they grow up. It builds their immune system up. Not to mention it's great sensory play; mud doesn't quite feel like anything else. But it's still kind of icky. And requires clean-up and a change of clothes before doing anything else. 

Some days I wish I were one of those moms who didn't care and played in the mud with him. But then I remind myself that mud is icky.