While I'd like to be the kind of mother who is totally fine with dirt and mud and such (which I am), I'm not the kind of mother who is into letting her kid run a muck in dog poo. And we have two dogs. And they make alotta poo. How much is alotta?, you might ask. Too much. I have a tendency towards anxiety and imagining terrible things in my head. Every time Rylan falls I expect to pick him up with a dog doo stuck to his shirt. When I hear him cough, I get a random thought that he stuck poo in his mouth and is going to have dog poo aspiration pneumonia. Its an illness, I'm aware.
So, I've taken on the gross, gross, gross task of being the dog poo collector. A Wal-Mart bag goes over one hand, a Wal-Mart bag is held in the other hand and I systematically pick the poo with my Wal-Mart bag covered hand. Its nasty. I gag. The fact that I'm a GI nurse when I feel like gracing the hospital with my presence makes no difference in the dog doo world. Gag-o-matic. I'm about 1/3 done with the yard and had to take a few day rest. I'll be back at it this weekend.
Its worth it for Rylan's fun factor and my sanity.
Fun outside in the snow with Papa
Fun at the lake feeding the ducks (he ate the bread)
Fun in the leaves
The run before the fall. We have strange neighbors that often throw stuff over the fence.
One time we found a turkey leg. One time a corndog. This day, a marker. Someone
was trying to run away before his ma could get it.
I had a great idea to try sidewalk chalk
Repercussions of trying sidewalk chalk with one year old
Okay, enough fun, get me out of these leaves