The little outdoorsman

Now that the weather is getting nicer, C really enjoys being outside. He can also walk (okay, run) a lot better than he could last year, meaning I don’t have to be worried about him tripping and falling into a puddle or mudhole. Now, if he’s in the mud, it’s fully intentional.

Of course, being outside is a good thing, but it also comes with its own set of challenges, as, I suppose, does anything involving a toddler. We now need to work on boundaries. We fortunately live on a cul-de-sac, with only one other house on the street, so traffic is not an issue, but teaching him that he can’t go into the street without mommy or daddy is likely going to take a while. He does kind of seem to understand the concept of grass, so I can tell him to stay in the grass with mild effectiveness. Though with him, understanding is the least of it – he can understand it perfectly and still choose to ignore me. I’ve quickly gotten to the point that, as long as I can see him, he’s not destroying anything important, and he’s not in danger of hurting himself too badly, I’m okay with it. We spent an hour outside last week – I was shoveling dirt, and he was moving the dirt one handful at a time to another bucket all the way across the yard. Worked out perfectly for both of us.

He likes to pick up sticks, stones, clumps of dirt; you name it. Which is perfectly fine, for the most part, until he starts trying to move the driveway, stone by stone, into the front yard. Stand back when I’m cutting the grass later this summer.

The biggest challenge is not about being outside though, it’s about trying to get him back inside. If he’s not ready to come in (which is never), he either voices his displeasure (loudly) or goes completely limp when I try to pick him up. Usually both. And continues until we get him inside and distract him with food. You know exactly what I’m talking about. Quite fun.

It should be easier to get things done outside this summer, since he’ll be able to come along and stay upright. Should be.

Playing with the crazy dog.

Plotting their escape.

Dad is still too quick.

Even the food didn't work for this tantrum.

I'm sure he'll enjoy revisiting these in fifteen years or so.

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