Once in a while I see a "Wordless Wednesday" post on someone's blog and I think, Hey, maybe I should do that. "Wordless Wednesday" is a post where you just post a photo. Presumably on a Wednesday. That kind of appeals to my lazy side. But then I think, Who am I kidding? I don't "do" wordless. I do word-y. I am, like, genetically and biologically prohibited from wordless. There is a reason my childhood nickname was Motormouth, a nickname I have come to understand more fully after giving birth to my very own Motormouth. Seriously, Zippy will start talking non-stop the moment he wakes up and all I can think is Where is my coffee??? Oh, but I love that boy.
Anyway, I have this picture that would be my Wordless Wednesday picture, except I'm adding words. Because, besides the fact I can't keep my mouth shut, I was thinking about what this picture says to me and how pictures of our children and families and of anything, really, often say so much more to us than to anyone else. We look at these photos and see the stories behind them. We remember the moments captured and, if we're lucky, the emotions we experienced. And thinking about all that I realized why I love this picture so much.
To the astute observer, this is a picture of a cute kid covered head to toe in mud. Yes, you are 100% correct. But it is so much more than that.
This picture reminds me of a day I said Yes - Yes, Zippy, you can play outside in the rain. I'd really love to say that I was just being a totally chill, laid-back mom that day. The truth, however, is that I thought, If I let this child play outside in the rain, I can get lunch ready in peace. I didn't think about the flower-bed-in-the-making that was, at the moment, still a patch of very inviting dirt-turned-mud.
This is my Zippy, in all his glory. Lover of mud. Smiling ear to ear. This kid makes everything he does fun. He is perpetually full of mischief and curiosity and energy and joy. He is full of happy. That is what I see when I look at this picture.
This photo captures Zippy doing what he always does - pushing the envelope, always wanting to know What if...?, always doing things 1000%. In this case, he couldn't just play in the mud. You know, stomp around in it and what not, like most kids. Nope. He had to stick his entire face in the mud. Then he came to the back door because, "Mommy, there's mud in my eyes." Well, yeah, buddy, of course there is! The kid had mud up inside the sleeves of his raincoat, down his underwear, in every single nook and cranny. I think he literally swam in the mud. Laundry was a mess that night. But it sure was sweet. Because this is my Zippy. Word.