(While reading this post, please keep in mind that I have a true phobia of all things creeping and crawly. Thank you.)
One thing I love about living right next door to one of the many local parks is that Jude get to interact with kids from a wide, wide age range. Sometimes he ends up sitting next to mamas who have their babies snuggled next to them in their ERGO baby carriers, and sometimes he ends up playing a variation of soccer with some elementary-aged kids. Jude especially loves playing with the older children; and one boy he has really connected with is an eight-year-old named Jameson.
Jude and Jameson ran into each other (almost literally) one day on the playground. The chased each other up and down the slide and all around the play structure. After playing for a while, Jameson asked Jude if he’d like to dig for worms. Jude said “Sure!” and I just smiled and followed behind them as they ran across the park to a dirt-filled area.
Another day, Jameson showed up at the park with a book about worms and a clear plastic jar filled with dirt, twigs, and grass. That day, he and Jude and two other boys dug and dug and filled the jar with earthworms. (Author’s note: Gross) At that point, all Jude could talk about was wanting his own “instructions” (book on worms) and “glass” (jar). As much as I hate all things gross, I was really excited to see Jude so excited about something. Josh and I took him to the Evanston Library a few days later, and we picked up two of our very own instruction books. On Mothers’ Day, armed with a glass jar of his own, Jude ventured outside with Josh to create a little habitat for the worms they were planning to dig for. Now, on the kitchen counter behind my sink, there’s a glass jar with holes poked in the lid, filled with dirt and leaves and twigs; also, worms.
Gross. Have I mentioned that?