There has to be an award for moms who invite their children to frolic in a mud pit left behind from an early evening thunderstorm. This same mom never complains about washing muddy bodies coated with blades of grass or stained clothing. (Extra points for that.)
Then again, maybe the reward is the joy that rises up from the moment itself, spilling over even more than the murky pools of rainwater.
You’re only a child once. Their happiness was worth the mud, the stains, the grit in the fingernails, the later bedtime, and the second bath in one day. These are the moments children remember – moments when my voice says yes more than no, moments when I look beyond the mess and see the joy. These are the moments I remember, too, when my children take me back to the fields of my own childhood and my sense of wonder and my appreciation for a good mud puddle returns.
*I suppose sharing this kind of happiness is one good reason to pop in here from time to time. :-)