Sometimes it's hard to unplug. With cell phones, iPads, smart cars, laptops and answers at our fingertips, it's no wonder we are so easily distracted.
"Unplug" is a word we say a lot at our house. With a little one growing up at the speed of light, I want to make sure my eyes are on her rather than Instagram.
While I love to share with friends and family and do so regularly, watching her learn to walk is more important than Facebook watching her learn to walk.
This weekend we attended Delta Down and Dirty, a super cool fun run for kids in Cleveland.
Before the 8-year-old heat began, Nana (my nickname for Berit) trotted over to a particularly inviting mud puddle and watched as another little girl with long blonde curls stomped in the water with all of her might.
Nana was impressed.
She follow suit and before I knew it had mud all the way up to her knees and her pink glitter hair bow was pink no more.
After a very impressive jump, she fell right on her behind leaving the perfect mud imprint of her little bottom. She squished the mud between her toes and even grabbed some in her pudgy hands.
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| It's always good to have "play clothes" and spare clothes on hand |
My favorite former fire inspector was standing close by and said, "Courtney, this is exactly how my generation used to play!"
I thought back to my own childhood in the Georgia red clay mud.
My dad loves telling the story of watching me play in a huge mud puddle in his brand new designer boots. My foot got stuck so I pulled it from the boot, stepped a few feet, and then put my now red muddy foot back in these new boots.
He claims he'd never even worn them before but just shook his head in love while watching me.
I did the same as I watched my daughter squish squish squish plop on Saturday morning.
Standing there, I vowed to keep her unplugged for as long as possible. Or at least take time each week to unplug with her.
I want her to keep these squishy and muddy memories safe in her heart just like mine so that she knows how important it is to put down our iPhones and spend a little time in the dirt.
Because in the dirt is where growth happens, not on iPhones.
Shortly after, we were off to the races, watching our favorite 8-year-old run as hard as he could through the course.
We cheered, we ran, we fell several more times, and when he crossed the finish line we got to shout, "You did it! You did it!"
I'm pretty sure shouts of accomplishment like that don't happen after a marathon of iPad Tetris.
Technology is so much fun, it's so important, and it's everywhere.
But so is family.
So are friends.
And so is mud.
This column originally ran in The Bolivar Commercial
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