Just Add Dirt

I’ve been thinking back to my own childhood a lot lately, trying to remember how I saw the world in an attempt to connect better with how Zoey sees it. I’ve also been remembering how my mom approached various aspects of motherhood and figuring out how to apply those same tricks to our household. Ok, let’s be honest, usually I just call her and whine and then she tells me how she did it. But whatever, the point is, she was and is a great mom and a great resource.

For example, I have dozens (maybe hundreds?) of memories of playing outside in a huge pile of dirt with my brother. My mom would get these enormous dump truck loads of dirt delivered for gardening (we lived on a 1 acre lot) and she’d allow us to play in the big pile of dirt to our heart’s content. We’d grab a hose and our Tonka trucks and spend hours outside. By the end of the day we would be covered – head to toe – in mud. Then my brother and I would head to the back door where my mom would pick us up, one at a time, and carry us to the kitchen. There she’d strip us naked on the linoleum, toss our muddy clothes in the washer and send us scurrying to the bathtub to get warm and clean.

Among all the many, many, MANY memories I have of this scenario playing out again and again, there is not one single memory of my mom complaining about the mess, the mud being tracked in, the extra laundry or the work and hassle of cleaning up after us. Not one single time did I ever hear anything like that from her.

That’s the kind of mom I want to be.

Happy Birthday, Mom. I love you.

4 thoughts on “Just Add Dirt

    1. I had a good friend tell me yesterday “my biggest hope is my kids take what I did, well and make it even better. The things I didn’t do well? I hope they’ll forgive and forget.” #Tears

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