Summer is soon upon us and what would that be without a little outdoor time? Well, apparently my kids have caught on to this idea and are embracing it tenfold. Let me preface by saying my backyard is awesome. And by awesome I mean it ROCKS. It is completely fenced in with mostly grass and one corner of good ol' fashioned dirt. And rocks. Lots of rocks. Although my hubby hates the rocks. It's a lawnmower thing, you get the picture. So anyway, back to the dirt. This dirt, at least to me, seemed to be the driest most stuck to the ground and packed down dirt I've ever seen. My children, on the other hand, were clever enough to not only loosen the dirt but to also wet it down with several buckets of water... from the blow-up kiddie pool. The pool no longer serves as a functional vat of water to cool down in on those 95 degree days. No sir-ee. It is for scooping up buckets of fresh cold water and then used as a hand washing station (or entire body washing station) before coming back inside when the mosquitos start to bite. Hey, I can't complain. Better there than in my kitchen where most of the dirt and mud seems to end up. It's like a human conveyor belt of tiny tots being hosed down, stripped of nasty muddy clothing, wrapped in a towel and carried off (newborn style) to the awaiting tub. Well... almost. Things have gotten so out of hand these days that I can't even fill the tub with water until the kiddos have been placed in it and almost drowned with cup after cup of water and at least 6 shampoo-ings to the head. This always ends with about a quarter inch of grime surrounding their little feet which I must rinse down and THEN fill it up with soapy water.
Just last week I was tickled pink to see that dear hubby had put Olivia in her new dress (sneakers and knee high white socks and all... I can't expect perfection I suppose) and a nice white bow in her hair. When her hair is pulled back with those curls bouncing all around she literally looks like an angel. God I just love her sweet little face! So dress in tow, for no particular reason might I add, she is bouncing around the house like a princess. I know this will not last long so I enjoy it. She walks up to every person in sight and sort of holds her dress pleats out to her sides and does a cute little blinky thing with her eyes. This is her way of saying "Look at me, aren't I cute?". Yes, yes, Livy. You are. So this goes on for a few minutes and then she sees that her big brother is making a break for the outdoors. He's slipping on his blue crocs, which are still filthy from yesterdays excursion outside, and opening the back sliding glass door. Livy goes running. "Outside, too me too!" she says which, loosely translated, means I want to go outside too! Riley releases her through the door and off they go down the hill in our backyard toward the fence. It is here where the fun begins each day. Forget the $100 playhouse I painstakingly looked for on Craigslist (for weeks!) and the $100 play equipment with tunnels, slides, etc. that I also searched for and drove over an hour to go pick up. They were pretty cool for the first few days but now they sit, untouched by human hand. You already know what little allure the blow-up pool has... so this leaves the dirt. The dollar store buckets and shovels are a hit. So there sits my darling Livy and sweet Riley playing in tandem. From the back door all I can see are the tops of their heads moving a little as they dig. I notice that they are close to each other and that makes me happy. I love sibling affection. I also love the time this buys me to go take care of the baby and get the dishes done. I turn around to the sink while the baby babbles away in her Bumbo seat on the kitchen table. I think a full 15 minutes passes. No screaming yet so I know that playtime has not gone south just yet between brother and sister. Another 5 minutes and I walk back to the door to check on things. I still see heads, only this time Livy's hair appears a lot darker than usual. I chalk it up to the sun playing tricks with my eyes and go back to my chores. There is a knock at the sliding glass door. I see Riley mouthing something to me through the glass with a crazy look on his face. No Livy. I look down the hill. I still see her head... and I'm almost positive now that her hair really IS darker. Riley is standing with a bucket full of mud in his hand and staring at his sister. He's a little dirty and somehow always manages to wipe a good smear across his upper lip each and every time he goes down there. We call it his dirt mustache and it's truly pretty gross when he's sneezing and wiping a runny nose. I open the door a crack - certainly don't want to let him in the house like that - and he says Livy is covering herself with mud. I say that's okay, she's done it before. He shakes his head no very emphatically and says "Mom, I'm telling you it's NOT good!". Riley might be a tattle tale sometimes but I tell you this, I am really starting to love that about him. I never fear that something bad will happen and it will go unnoticed. Nope. Riley will be the first one in line to tell you in detail what happened, how it happened and most importantly WHO DID IT. "You HAVE to come see this, Mom!" he shouts. He is smiling which means it's bad, but he's loving every minute of it. Probably because he thinks someone is about to get in trouble. He was even kind enough to translate Livy's toddler back-talk to me the other day when I asked her if she needed a whack to the bum for her temper tantrum. He said he knew exactly what she said back to me: "No, Mom. I do not want my ass whooped." As if I whoop ass on a daily basis. I don't think I've ever whooped one ass... although I've definitely had moments where I wanted to. And besides, where the hell did he learn about asses being whooped in the first place?!? So anyway, I run out into the yard in my barefeet, images of my poor two year old blind from dirt in her eyes or sick from eating handfuls of it, and sprint down the hill. It's not a big hill, it just sucks when you step on the tree roots or rocks. Best to go as quickly and as light-footed as possible. I see the kids do it all the time with no trouble at all. I guess I do weigh about 100 more pounds than they do though... certainly makes for a different journey. I stumble upon Livy who I honestly wouldn't have recognized if she passed me in the street. She is no longer my pale white child. She is speckled. Almost like she were covered in black spray paint, but someone stood back just far enough that she was not completely covered. I see two shiny brown eyes popping out from all of this... this... mess. Her hair is slicked down around her face and neck, no longer bouncy and curly as it was half an hour ago. Glistening in the sun with those gorgeous highlights. Nope, it looks like something took a crap on her head and rubbed it in. Profusely. Her pretty dress is now just an apron of mud and the only thing untouched, which I still can't quite figure out, are her shoes. My guess is that perhaps when she was leaning down her dress created some sort of halo shield around them and her legs and protected them from harm. A big smile crosses her face and she holds up a handful of mashed grass and something else that I can't quite place. "Wook!" she says. This means "Look!". and she starts to trudge up the hill toward me. I do the only thing that my body can instinctively do in those few short seconds before she reaches me. I squeal and run. Riley has managed to find extreme humor in all of this and is now hysterically laughing at this spectacle. I'm pretty sure there are tears running down his face. Here is my two year old daughter chasing me down in the backyard and all I can do is scream louder every time she is within arms length of me. Finally I have to stop the shenanigans I've gotten myself into because I know it will only get worse... and all that running will deem me too tired to clean her up. Thankfully I had filled the pool earlier in the day and so the water, although cool, was not freezing at this point. I pull her dress up over her head as I threaten her. "DO. NOT. TOUCH. MOMMY" I say. She nods her head in agreement. I'm a little worried about the amount of dirt in her hair and am wondering if her skull and brain are getting oxygen at this point because the mud has seemingly clogged up everything. I know, I know, your brain doesn't need oxygen through your skin, but it seemed like a logical and quite panicked idea at the time. I try to rinse Livy off as best as I can with the pool water, but she'll only let me get so far before she's screaming "Cold! Cold!". I pick her up underneath of her arms and drag her as fast as I can, shoes and all, to the bathroom. As I undo her diaper I realize that there are pounds of dirt in there too. Her butt looks like that of a dalmation. Spotty. Water running, I strip her down as best as I can without completely destroying the bathroom and sit her down on the bare tub floor. She tries to put the drain stopper in but I stop her mid reach. This might be the usual routine but this ain't no usual body I'm washing here people. And yes, I said ain't. I wash her hair once. Followed by washing her face and the dirt out of her eyes. Follwed by washing her hair again. Followed by another hair washing. And another. And another. Yes, 5 washings later I am starting to see creamy skin poking through. There are still large chunks of matter in all directions, but I take comfort in knowing that it will come out. Eventually. After the 5th rinse Livy has had enough and wants to play. I scrub her down and then let her swim around for a bit, lining up plastic fish and Riley's superheroes along the tub ledge. When the water starts to chill she stands up and says "Mommy out!" which is my cue to grab a towel. I pull her up and then place her firmly on the bathroom rug to dry a little. As I reach down to pull the plug and let the water out I see a nice film of darkness pooling around the bubbles. It doesn't give me much hope that Olivia is squeaky clean at this point, but she's a definite improvement. The last surge of water goes down the drain and I look into the tub. Oh Lord in Heaven. It's as if we brought the backyard in. Too tired from cleaning up bare butts and backs I do what any other Mother in my situation would do. I yank hard on the shower curtain and pull it completely closed. Cleaning like that is best left to another day... and if a stranger needs to use the potty, they'll never even realize what transpired here tonight. A bit of lotion and a pair of flowered pj's later, I walk into the kitchen. Triumphant that I won the battle. A quick "tap tap tap" at the back door and I look in front of me with horror. I forgot about Riley. Crap. I slip my flip-flops on and go back out the door to tackle number two, the second culprit in the Battle of the Mud games. If I were a smart, uncaring Mother, I would dunk him in the pool. He is bigger now and it doesn't seem like a bright idea. Besides, this would most likely mean that I would also be soaked in the process. Round 2: Bath time... begin! My friends, I will have victory. Oh, and one very dirty tub.
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