Letting him eat dirt

Spotless. Pristine. Bored. These are not words I use to describe my son. Messy. Dirty. Inquisitive. These are the ones I am more apt to employ. Never have they been more justified then yesterday. We moved azaleas from my grandmother’s house to our front yard. They will get the sun they need, and the front of our houseContinue reading “Letting him eat dirt”

Dirt Therapy

It’s another dreary, overcast day, which, as always, put me in a funk. This general funkiness was compounded by the fact that I was tired, the kid was screaming for lunch, and the dog was whining incessantly for whatever he didn’t have right then. I was about ready to mentally shut down and throw a blanket over my head. Not that that would have solvedContinue reading “Dirt Therapy”