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Brown Dirt Cowgirl



It was hard to come to work this morning. Not just because I had a case of the Mondays. Not just because it’s absolutely gorgeous outside and I would rather be anywhere than in an office. And not because I have a to-do list that is a million items long and I only seem to be adding to it and not taking away. The real reason it was so extremely, painfully hard to come to work is that we had such a wonderful weekend with our little Pumpkin.

Enough cannot be said about the amazing weather we had this weekend. It was beautiful. It was cool in the morning, which called for staying in our PJs a little longer than usual and having Pop cook us a big breakfast. But then the glorious sun broke free and it warmed up to a perfect 80 degrees. Perfect temp. We stayed outside for most of the day Saturday and there is simply no denying my girl’s absolute LOVE for the outdoors. We played on the swing, the slide, dragged the wagon, pushed the wagon, rode the wagon, filled the wagon with scavenger hunt items, which involved picking flowers and picking up sticks, we kicked balls, and even caught Pumpkin’s first love bug and wondered at it crawling on her finger. You name it, if it could be done on 3 acres of land, we accomplished it. It was the kind of simple fun that I had forgotten about and that just cannot be bought.

We capped off Saturday evening with her first circus, complete with pony rides. Now that one did have a price tag (a surprisingly steep one, considering it was the Shriner circus and not Ringling Brothers), but it was for a good cause and Pumpkin clapped THE ENTIRE TIME. Personally, I got more amusement out of the crowd than the acts, but that is another story. Aside from having to stop Pumpkin from eating popcorn off of the Civic Center floor, it was thoroughly enjoyable and worth every penny just to watch her excitement. I just hope she isn’t entertaining ideas in that sweet little head of becoming the lady with the pony-riding poodles (her favorite act by far).

But even that wasn’t the best part of the weekend. It was the dirt. While I can appreciate Pumpkin’s love of the outdoors (though make no mistake, while I love a pretty day, I do not consider myself any type of outdoorswoman), I did not truly understand her love for it until Sunday. My cousin’s son was having his second birthday and the invitation indicated that “weather permitting” there would be a dirt pile. As I said before, there was nothing this weekend’s weather did NOT permit, so dirt pile it was.

Now, en route to this fiesta, I was certain of at least one or the other of two things – Pumpkin was either not going to “get” the dirt pile or she was not going to like it. There was no doubt in my mind. I wasn’t even sure I “got” the dirt pile. I mean, what exactly were the children supposed to do with this dirt pile. From my cousin’s explanation, it involved me needing to bring a change of clothes for her. That was all I knew. It didn’t sound fun, but bless her heart I was going to support the dirt party for my cousin’s and her son’s sake. Once again, joke was on me.

As she so often does, Pumpkin (and cousin) proved me wrong. You see, while there were lots of little boys at the party, it was our pretty little Pumpkin who would not leave the dirt pile. She shoveled, and climbed, and dumped, and drove, and ate, and rode the slide straight into the dirt for two straight hours (well I didn’t let her eat it for the entire two straight hours, but you get the point). Neither pizza, nor singing, nor presents, nor cake (CAKE!) distracted her from her dirty work. She squealed with delight while running her chubby little fingers through the dirt and letting it sprinkle down into her waiting pail. The only break she took from the dirt work was to chase a duck to the pond with absolute glee on her face. My child “got” the dirt (in every crevice, I might add). And she didn’t just “get” it, she LOVED it.

Dirt. Who knew? I could have saved a lot of money and worry over toys and bought a bag of potting soil. Seriously. Dirt. Just loose dirt.

And I must admit, Pumpkin didn’t just prove me wrong she proved me WAY wrong. Not only did Pumpkin enjoy the dirt, but I have to confess, it was a nice and ironically cleansing experience to get down and dirty with Pumpkin for those couple of hours; shedding my heels and deadlines for a shovel and pail. I can’t say it enough – it truly is the little things that make life worthwhile and for which I am so blessed. The little, dirty things (and people), that I wouldn’t have any other way.

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