I proudly embrace the role of the “muddy puddles” mom, but that wasn’t always my mindset.
On July 4, 2010, I was at a backyard barbecue with my two young sons. My eldest, Leo, had just turned 2, while my youngest, Max, was a mere 2 months old. As the evening wore on, a friend called me over with a beaming smile to show me what Leo was up to. There he was, standing gleefully in a muddy puddle, his eyes sparkling with joy as if it were Christmas morning.
Internally, I was panicking. I hadn’t packed a change of clothes, we faced a long drive home, and I dreaded the thought of a muddy car seat. Plus, I was exhausted from keeping up with Leo while caring for his baby brother. Yet, I forced a smile, trying to focus on the sheer delight on my son’s face rather than the impending mess.
To my surprise, Leo didn’t complain about his drenched clothes. We returned home late, cleaned him up as best we could, and let him go to bed dirty. Looking back now, I’m incredibly grateful that I chose to embrace that moment of carefree joy. It was a fleeting opportunity for Leo to experience a simple, yet profound joy. I had no idea that just two months later, our lives would be forever changed.
Leo was diagnosed with an aggressive brain tumor, a devastating surprise for our family. He had been an active, vibrant child, and the diagnosis felt unimaginable. Over the next two and a half years, he underwent 20 surgeries and spent 260 nights in the hospital. Each time he showed signs of recovery, setbacks would pull him back. The cruelty of cancer was overwhelming.
Meanwhile, I watched Max grow under the care of friends and family, as I focused on Leo. I missed out on so much of the typical “babyhood” experiences, but when I was present, each moment felt infinitely more special. Every messy kiss and handprint became treasures I cherished. My perspective on parenting shifted dramatically, and for that, I am thankful.
Leo had this adorable way of saying he felt “all bedda,” even when he was in pain, not wanting others to worry. One day, I asked him what he dreamed of doing once he was truly better. His reply? “I want to jump in a MUDDY PUDDLE!” That simple statement resonated deeply with me. I felt compelled to share his desire with the world, reminding parents everywhere to appreciate the simple joys of childhood.
In honor of this, my husband and I established The Muddy Puddles Project, a fundraising initiative aimed at supporting vital childhood cancer research through the Ty Louis Campbell Foundation. We have also designated April 1 as National Jump in Muddy Puddles Day! I invite you to join us by posting photos of your kids splashing in puddles on the Muddy Puddles Project website or Facebook page. Let’s spread awareness together. Encourage your children to embrace their inner joy, whether it’s jumping in puddles or getting messy with finger paints.
Remember, life is fleeting, and soon enough, they will grow up and see wet clothes as nothing more than an inconvenience. The Muddy Puddles Project is not just for kids; it symbolizes embracing life’s messiness. Whatever your “muddy puddle” may be, I urge you to face it boldly today and JUMP IN!
One in two men, one in three women, and one in 300 children will face cancer. What’s YOUR muddy puddle?
This article was originally published on April 1, 2012.