Words can’t do justice

Words can’t do justice to the amount of gross in boyhood.

I’m a boy mom, and as one would assume, that role comes with many gross experiences that I may not ever have had to endure if it weren’t for the fact that it’s socially unacceptable to run away from your kids.

This day was one of those days.

For those that know me quite well, you’d probably describe me as “outdoorsy.” Sure I hike and I paddle and I camp. In another life I could be a farmer. Animal poop doesn’t bother me. I’m pretty tolerant of dirt. You get the idea.

But walking through a slimy marsh - nope.

Pushing my way through reeds to find snakes - are you insane?

Sinking into mud up to my ankles. I think I'm going to throw up. 

But see, I have boys. They wanted to chase frogs. They wanted to catch snakes. Am I really going to be that mom that sits on the sidelines and says, “boys bleh!” 

No, of course not. I want to be the cool mom. The one that tags along, at least while they still invite me.

That and, one of the best pieces of advice I have gotten so far as a boy mom was “Mom, you need to silence your intrusive thoughts.”

And I was 1000% certain there were snapping turtles in this water, and I knew I needed to be at close range just in case. You know, just in case I needed to pull a toe out of something. Oh the intrusive thoughts that were going through my head the whole time I followed these boys around, pretending like it was nothin’!

Now, I could go home and journal about it, write some pretty words about it. But I’m not that great of a writer. 

And so I shoot this insanity, because as Lewis Hine said, “If I could tell the story in words, I wouldn’t need to lug around a camera.”

So I lug around this camera because I need to adequately capture the disgusting that this is.