a little dirt never hurt

When I send my children out in the backyard to play I expect them to get dirty.  On occasion I would prefer them not to get quite as dirty as they do.  I'm a perfectionist and dirt on my floors and the smudges that come with bother me.

But, kids aren't really perfectionists in that area of their lives.  Their world doesn't revolve around how clean a house is or it's floors.  They don't even notice how dirty they really are until it's brought to their attention.

So, when I came out to check on my kids and found them contentedly playing in the dirt I chose not to 

become irritated by their mess-making.  Instead, I brought out my camera to catch them in their imaginative play.  I'm glad I did because, truly, there really is nothing like building dirt roads for your trucks and rubbing muddy, sandy dirt all over your hands.  I can remember doing the same as a child.  It is fun!

I absolutely love Henry's little man hands.  He already has callouses.  When we hold hands they're rough and I fall more in love with my little dude.  He is my all-boy boy and I am proud of all his abilities.

His fingers always have some form of dirt under and around them, even after thorough cleanings.  I decide it's because he plays hard and is my boy.  I don't fight it.  He's clean, promise.

I'm not entirely sure the knees of the kid's jeans from their dirt play will ever come entirely stain-free but I'm okay with that.