A Frugalista's Spa Treatment

Want to know how to keep two little boys in one place and entertained for two hours while you attempt to reclaim the weed patch that was once your garden?

One word: mud.

We went out this morning, armed with hand trowels and sunscreen, and pulled about half the weeds. (Half the weeds in two hours should tell you how bad it was.) Because we opted to utilize the community drip lines, we don't have to water our garden. I really like this, but it's probably why I've let the weeds get so bad: I simply don't HAVE to go out that often. The drip lines happened to be on when we went out this morning. This made weed-pulling easier because the ground was moist. It also gave the boys an immediate distraction from their usual task of running through other people's gardens (sorry neighbors, I don't think they've actually stepped on any plants yet) and leaving the gardens altogether.

I left them to it. At one point I looked up and saw that Peter was using a stick to paint Cooper with mud. Cooper was a pretty good sport about it, but he did start to bat Peter away when he had reached his mud-paint quota. Cooper wandered over to a slightly deeper spot of mud about halfway through the weeding session. I kept closer watch on him at his new location and looked up just in time to see him dip his head into the mud.

Awesome.

When he came up he had a mud stripe that went from the middle of his head down to right above his mouth. A second dunk added to the mud mask.

Both boys had a grand time, except when I insisted that they help dispose of the weeds. There was a woman tending her own garden about halfway down the row. I'm sure I looked like a crazy lady to her. "No Peter, don't throw the weeds across the garden. Walk all the way up to the bushes and drop them by the fence. No. No! Stop throwing them! Cooper, come away from the mud and help us pick-up the weeds. Stop throwing weeds at me! Why are you sitting? This job does not require sitting. Please pick-up the weeds. We will go home as soon as we're done picking-up the weeds!"

To be honest, I felt a little like a crazy lady too. They did finally help, which meant we could move on to gathering our tools, rinsing off our hands, and heading home. Before stripping off the boys' muddy clothes in the garage and thoroughly scrubbing both children clean in the bathtub, I did what any good mom would do.

I documented the mess.

Remember, this was after they had washed off in the garden.