Ahhh Spring.

Spring has finally sprung here in the Bear Lake Valley (I do mean finally- and even though it's supposed to snow on Thursday- I've chosen to ignore the weather reports). The last couple of days have been absolutely beautiful. It's given me hope that all isn't lost here in this forsaken town out in the middle of nowhere. Yesterday Ty got to pull out his bike and ride it up and down the sidewalk- something that he has been harping on since about mid-January. He just couldn't figure out why he couldn't go and ride it in the snow. It's just been nice that it's finally warm enough to go outside for extended amounts of time without the fear of frostbite.

Today, I literally threw him outside just because he wouldn't stop trying to "help" me put a few things away. He didn't understand why anyone would want their clothes put in the dresser (since he doesn't)- so immediately after I put Shaun's pants away- Ty was in the drawer pulling them back out again. To be fair- he kept putting them in the laundry basket- so the good intentions were there. Good intentions or not though- he ended up outside. Because the weather was so nice- we both got to wear shorts and flip-flops (aren't his little legs and toes cute?! Mine are not- so I won't subject you to having to look at mine).

While we were outside today- he discovered worms. And apparently they are okay. You can't go near him with a bug or a little water snake- but these are alright. Maybe its because you can't tell which is the head and which is the butt that makes them a little less intimidating. Anyway- I told Ty to put the worm back in the garden and cover it with dirt so that we could go inside and make lunch.

At this point though- I beg to ask the question... Is it brain damage that so affects my child? Or is it rampant congenial idiocy that stems from either the Kidd line or the Henriksen line (I know which I would say-- though it would probably be the complete opposite of what Shaun would so it makes it difficult to tell. I post my question to my readers out there)? At what point do you look at a pile of dirt (that you have just buried a worm in no less) and decide that it is a good idea to pick up a handful and place it in your mouth? I watched Ty do this very thing and promptly spit it out. He turns to me and says "Eeewww!" I felt like saying "No kidding Sherlock," but I held my tongue (apparently the mothering instinct that we heard so much about in biology is innate in all of us- though probably buried deeper in others) and asked him instead if he wanted to go inside to wash out his mouth.

That ended our adventures this morning- though if the weather holds- I'm a little bit curious to see what he eats when we go out after his nap. A rock? A tree stump? Maybe we'll be lucky and he'll stick to something a little more mellow... like grass.