mud season

There is actually a fifth season around here and it lasts a long, long time.  It's the awkward season when it's warmer, but still cold; we want to play but can't figure out what to do; we end up running out of clothing items and shoes, and our floors are in constant need of serious cleaning.  It's the mud season.  I am always happy to see spring trying to arrive, but the mud is out of control.  At our house, we've got the clay that cakes on thicker and thicker until we are wearing platform shoes from the nineties.  It's so gross.

The other day was such a beautiful day we just had to get outside.  It's just weird when there isnt' enough snow to play in, but everything is soggy and yucky.  We decided to hike to the new playground in our subdivision.  I found out it was a bad idea a few steps too late, so we continued on.  Beckham was not happy about slopping through three inches of mud, especially after he fell.  I just held his hand and guided him along, despite his constant pleading I carry him.  He was SO muddy.  The kids had fun on the playground. Mud chunks flew everywhere. 

When we arrived back home---and by then I had given in to Beckham's "mommy hold you??" and carried him home, and I was sweating and breathing hard.  Traipsing through the mud with 30 lbs of dead weight is not an easy task!---the boys wanted to jump on the trampoline.  I wasn't about to mess with their boots, so we climbed on, completely caked in mud.  What a mess.

(Beckham has no neck in that sweatshirt:)

I am learning, and am sure I will learn more in the future, as the mother of boys I've just got to be able to jump in and have fun.  Who cares if it's messy, loud, crazy, gross, or crazy.  I want to be a part of their fun.  And to a boy, what could be more fun? Jumping on the trampoline with mud bits flying everywhere? Making footprints and sliding all over? It's pure awesomeness to a little man.

Plus, it makes for some pretty cute pictures and a very happy mom.