More wardrobe changes than an award show host

We had a fun, busy, messy day today, which is, I suppose, the best kind of day for a toddler.

Our landlord came by with her handyman at 8:30 this morning to install closet hardware, a garbage disposal, and a handful of other things that didn't get done in the days before we moved in. Because Alex tends to meddle with people who are trying to get stuff done, I decided to take him out into the backyard to play for a while. And before he even made it off of the deck, Alex did the unspeakable, the intolerable, performed a horrific act that I am ashamed to describe for fear that my readers will blame me for failing to instill in him the values that would have prevented this atrocity...

He killed a bug. Squashed a poor, innocent roly-poly with his finger. I'm pretty sure that, if tried in a court of law, I would be charged with conspiracy to commit insecticide because I pointed the little bug out to Alex in the first place, thinking he would just watch it crawl around, or at worst, try to touch it and maybe let it crawl up his arm. But nooooo, his first instinct was to reach down with his big, mean, pointer finger and - ppppllbbbbtttt - smush that little guy to smithereens and smear its guts across the deck. Afterwards, he went about his business, as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Why Alex, wwhhhhhyyyyyyyyy??? Ooooohhh, the guilt is unbearable. Mine, of course, not his.

Although I couldn't stop thinking about whether that little bug might have had a wife...or a husband...or a baby...or if it was a baby...before its untimely demise, I tried to put the whole thing out of my mind and enjoy watching Alex romp around the yard.

Somehow, I neglected to consider that the hours of pouring rain yesterday might have turned our grassless backyard to a giant pit of mud, and how a giant pit of mud might ruin the perfectly adorable outfit that I dressed Alex in this morning. By the time I realized it, it was already too late, so I resisted the urge to immediately strip him naked and hose him down on the deck and salvage his clothing as best I could, and instead, let him go to town...

...for about ninety seconds. I know, I'm proud of me, too. At that point, I couldn't stand another second of him wriggling around on the ground, watching his clothes and shoes become caked with mud, so I scooped him up, took him inside, and dumped him into the empty tub, fully clothed. Despite my efforts to hold him at arms' length when I carried him inside, I, too, became covered in mud. As I was cleaning the mud off of my jeans, Alex decided to wash his own clothes while he was still wearing them by filling the tub himself.

Needless to say, Alex had soon moved on to outfit #2. We had a few errands to run after naptime, and when we got back, it was drizzling and icky and, what the heck, perfect weather for playing in the rain.

The driveway was full of puddles, but A was particularly drawn to the largest one with the best splash potential. He would stomp through it, then turn around and come back and attack it from the other side.

I had to show him how to properly splash in the puddles, but it didn't take him long to catch on.

He was just as excited about getting his hands in the water as his feet.

One misstep later and - OOPS!! Down goes Frazier.

Oh well, if you're gonna get wet, you might as well go big or go home.

Obviously, another bath was necessary, followed by another wardrobe change. When he rubbed cream cheese into his hair at dinner, I thought, I can't possibly give this kid another bath today. But I did anyway, followed by wardrobe change #4 into his jammies, then into bed he went, after which I washed the largest load of Alex laundry that my washer's ever seen. Such a small price to pay for such a fun-filled day.