Interlude for the Boys

A bedtime prayer:

Dear Lord,

Thank you for, um, hotdogs...

And thank you for macaroni on top of the hotdogs...

And thank you for hotdogs.

Amen.

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"Aw, don't discourage him, honey." My husband gently admonishes me for my loud and over-the-top girly disgust at the sight of a worm in freshly turned dirt. Still one of the many holdovers that I simply have not let go of yet- My name is Tracy and I'm creeped out by creepy-crawlies.

But I know that I shouldn't outwardly oppose such things of nature, lest my son become a ninny. And, growing up around other farm kids, a startled shriek and side-step away from the offending three-inch long earthworm would surely raise a few eyebrows. So, I let go of the theatrics for a moment.

"Oh, Ryan, that IS cool! Look at how he's squiggling around! What does a worm eat?"

"Um, grass."

"Hmm, I think he likes dirt."

"Um. No, I 'hink he likes GRASS."

Seeing that I am clearly outwitted, I let him have this one.

"Pretty neat, huh."

"Dad, can I touch him?"

His father lights up immediately. "Sure you can. Just pick him up...yup, like that. Ok, now put him back, he doesn't do well outside of the ground for very long."

*insert wild shriek of delight via three-year-old

"Ok, now put him back..."

"LOOKIT MOM! YOU SEE HOW HE'S A-WIGGILIN'?" Clearly ignoring his father's coaxing.

And thus began his delight with all things gross. At the tender age of three. And all I can think is, worms will be cool for awhile...then we'll move on...to watering plants or gathering eggs or something. Something that doesn't involve things I find slightly objectionable wriggling within inches of my nose.

Two days later:

"Mom. Look. Look, mom. Do you see it? A little baby frog!"

Intent on my weeding project, this comment barely registers with me. One of a thousand sentences throughout the day. I do a quick glance to his hand, seeing a worm dangling from two fingers.

"That's a worm, babe."

"No, look at it's EYES mom! It's a tiny frog!"

And then, then I see his other hand, wrapped tightly around a little toad. Only it's head is visible, eyes bulging from the sides, and I can hear his little toady voice pleading "he's suffocating me!"

I leap from my weeding job with a quick "stay there!" and run in to get Dad, who is decidedly not creeped out by amphibians.

"Um, can you come up here, please?"

He knows it's important because I am pulling him away from plumbing. And that doesn't happen on a whim these days.

"I just want you to know that this is your fault," I start before he's even up the stairs. "And the first time I pull a frog out of a pair of pants in the laundry..."

And the boys spent the next twenty minutes learning how to properly hold baby frogs without making their eyes bulge from their heads. And I sat, paralyzed with fear, thinking of squirming laundry piles, wishing I would have just kept up the grossed-out theatrics. Because now that insects and worms and frogs are COOL, I am sure to be seeing a lot more of them, close up and personal-like.

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And David! Nine-month old David has four upper teeth now, giving him a new total of six teeth. Also? He is crawling, which in the country and in the middle of an outdoor trenching job just means that he can make his way off the safe, clean blanket and into the black soil quickly enough to get a nice snack before mom catches him.

But truly, how neat it is to watch him roam around. He is pulling himself up now, so the morning squeals are accompanied by a delighted bouncing baby in the crib. He is quite pleased with himself.

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I love spring for the warmth. For the lack of frostbite. For running around in bare feet and hanging laundry on the line. The writers of that Christmas song had it all wrong. While winter can be nice, I can assure you that (cue mental tune) the Most Wonderful Tiiiiime of the Year is definitely spring. Spring with no heating bills. Spring with Asparagus. Spring with babies everywhere. Spring...oh delightful, non-horrible spring! We have waited for you for so, so long. And even through all of this daunting/tiring/exhausting/trying plumbing work, I can't help but wake up to sunshine-filled mornings, breathe in the sweet, warm air and be so, so thankful that I have these two kids. And the husband. He's pretty neat, too. Even if he does touch worms.