April 15, 2016

A Hole: Half Full or Half Empty

To the tune of “There’s a Hole”

There’s a hole in my backyard dear reader, dear reader.

There’s a hole in my backyard, so deeply, a hole.

Who dug it, you’re asking, you’re asking, you’re asking,

Who dug it, dear Lindsey, who dug it so deep?

It’s Eli! and his friends, and buddies, and siblings,

It’s Eli! and his friends, and with shovels and buckets!

10 days ago Eli asked if he could dig a hole under our swing set. I was happy to say YES! Not able to fully gauge the scope, or should I say depth, of this request, I knew at least this was a good spot for a hole. Other areas, other times (ie: 1. Beside our deck when Oaks was a toddler and the 12 inch hole filled with water- not a good place! or 2. Right after the neighbors moved in under their deck without asking- not a good time or place!) were not good ideas but here, under the swing set, the grass grows high and waits for a whacking. There isn’t much else to do under there. Yes, Eli, go ahead and dig.

He wasted no time. Eli thinks about the hole at first waking and heads out for some digs before school. He comes home and drops his backpack by the rakes in the garage and heads back out to the hole. His clothes are filthy, his shoes filled with dirt, and his soul singing.

There were a few days where the hole brought neighborhood havoc- hole leaders Eli, Will, and Drew wanted to charge fees for touching the hole ($.25 per day) or $1.00 for full hole membership. There was the scale conundrum where only those weighing 60 pounds could jump on the shovel in an attempt to dig deeper.

I intervened with what I thought was a great lecture about how greatness created should be greatness shared.

“Think of all those free apps you like playing on your phone.” I asked.

“Yes.”

“Wouldn’t that stink if you had to pay $.25 every time you wanted to play?”

“Yes.”

“Just like great games, created by someone who worked hard and made something cool, we share the hole so everyone else gets to experience what cool thing we made.”

The scale was put away and no fees have been charged or collected.

The hole is a WIN!

Impressively deep and wide and made completely by kids.
Lots of kids have participated, played, and worked together and hung out for hours around the hole.
Eli loves an adventure and project and goes intensely into what he sets his mind to. This is one I encourage and enjoy watching wholeheartedly.
And my favorite part, the hole reminds me of my brother Scot who dug a hole when he was nine in our backyard in Colorado. Along the way he dug up three shoeboxes of bunnies we had buried after their stint of being our pet passed. I remember the bunnies and then I remember the bottom or the hole. It was deep and wide and cool in the shade of the giant pine tree it was under. I don’t remember all the hours Scot spent digging, I don’t think I helped much. But I do remember being proud of him. He had made something great, by himself. With muscle, grit, and determination and back then too, help from friends.

Now, I’m proud of my mom as well. She said YES to Scot when he thirsted for adventure that would make a mess. This is not always easy for me.

The hole is a PAIN!

Have I mentioned the dirt? Dirt in the shoes, on the carpet, in the entry way, on their clothes, in the kitchen, in pockets, caked on socks…
Where do we put the dirt that’s dug out?! I readied a spot along the fence and very quickly, it overflowed- completely covering my baby and barely there lilies. We rescued them…I think.
The dirt is all over the grass right around the swing set box. This grass is probably dead. We work so very hard to not have our grass die.
Eli wants a snack at a most inconvenient time now…not right after school as regularly scheduled and when Andi and Oaks have theirs, but later. Like 30 minutes into hole digging when he is covered in dirt, surrounded by other kids, and wanting it served hole-side.

But mostly the hole is just another reminder of how lucky we are to live here and call this home. Like the hole, our family in this house is: a bit messy, unstable in parts, crowded and loud, but deep and fun and open for hard work alone or with a crowd.