Sticks. Dirt. Dig. Dump. Dig. That is what it is about for my boys. We spent hours each week in the park across the street digging in the dirt and playing with sticks. We use our plastic construction trucks from Walgreens (these are the BEST by the way) digging holes, lifting a load, dumping that load into the dump truck over and over again. And the sticks, who knew there were so many uses for them– digging, scraping, swatting, building, sweeping, writing, piling- you name it, we have done it with a stick. I sit with them and try to see what they see. There is a whole world going on. For my 2.5 year old, it is mostly the action of using the digger to pick up the dirt, to dump it into the truck and then to dump that load to the ground. He does it in such a slow, methodical manner as if every millimeter he moves is vitally important. My 5 year old, on the other hand, is telling a story. Whether it is an intricate story of the happenings at a construction site or a simple story of a digger doing its job, it completely becomes his world for that moment in time. I do enjoy digging with them for a while. It is fun to get down into the dirt and to feel the earth in my hands. But my story is not the same as either of the boys’ stories. My story is simply being with my boys.