A real, actual sandpit.
My decision to keep my children’s faces off this public blog sadly prevents me from showing you the sheer joy on our Toddler’s face at the discovery that there was a sandpit in his garden, for him to play in. “And your sister!” we quickly added, because we could see where this would be going: “No Baby, is my sandpit. No play.”
For the significance of the sandpit, I refer you to my very first post, where I explain how the Toddler used the word to express extreme excitement. His language and understanding have come on a lot since then – dare I say: sadly – and we don’t hear it so much anymore.
So now he has his very own sandpit. He has asked to play in it, rain or shine, every day since it arrived.
Rather than tell long stories, today I just want to share these lovely photos with you that my husband took on that very first afternoon. The sleeves below belong to our friend Z, who taught him how to fill up his bucket and make sandcastles. Impatient Toddler thought a third of a bucket’s worth of sand should be plenty, but he soon took over Z’s instructions and muttered: “Bit more, bit more” as he kept scooping sand until we said that was really was enough and it was time to turn it over.
The Baby having her first play in the sand.
Teeny tiny sandy fingers.