Sticks and Stones

So I was telling Ryan this funny story of Oliver yesterday and he said it was totally blog worthy and I should write something about it. And it's true, there are so many random funny things that happen daily that really should be documented. So yesterday, we were at the duck pond near campus to feed the ducks all sorts of scraps we'd be saving. So I have a few things I struggle with at the pond. First off, in general I think birds are really dirty and when they ruffle their feathers, I envision this powdery filth coming off of them into all of our lungs. Gross I know. Secondly, these particular ducks are really aggressive and Ollie takes just a little too long to throw their bread so they snatch it out of his hand. I know he won't get bit, or hope I guess, but their persistence either makes him cry or get really angry and he starts hitting at them or kicking them. Either way it's an ordeal, but so funny to watch. Another pond factor this time of year is the mud/snow. It's been pretty warm and all the snow had watered down into massive muddy puddles. It's hard trying to tell a toddler to avoid a puddle because the mere fact of pointing it out sends their curiosity through the roof so that they MUST step right into it. The last and most difficult factor is the actual pond. Oliver is a no-boundaries sort of child. That coupled with the fact that he doesn't listen very well= drowning in ice cold, dirty poop, pond water. I kid you not that in all my time in taking Ollie to the pond, I have saved his life over a dozen times, and probably had myself a few minor heart-attacks. So to the funny part. Oliver sort of started this game with himself. He would pick up a rock or stick and inspect it really thoroughly. If it didn't pass the test, he would discard it immediately and go looking for the next candidate. When he found just the right stick, he would barrel full speed down towards the pond and throw it in, while standing on the very edge, almost falling in every time. Oh my heart. Every time, I just ran after him and held his shirt in my hands so he wouldn't fall in. Then back we'd go to search again for the right stick or stone. It was quite the process to watch and even funnier when the items didn't pass the test cause Ollie would look disgusted and throw them really far away or really hard, like how dare they. So he found a few out of the many that passed and would be thrown into the pond. The last trip down, at full speed, he slipped near the edge and slid through the mud on his bum only to be saved by yours truly before plummeting to a certain fate. Oh my gosh, my heart must have been beating out of my chest. Well his bum was covered in probably half poop, half mud so it was about time to go home. But man, every time I take him to the pond I think, why do I do this, it stresses me out! But then I think of how patient he is with the cold and how often he stays inside and on sunny days, it's just what needs to be done. Sorry no pictures of the escapade. I avoid bringing my camera because that would be a safety violation for my son's life:)