They had mud coating their clothes, in their hair, and even their ears. I had paid good money for my two young children to get into this filthy state - and we were beaming.
Accompanied by 133 cubic metres of soil and 5500 other people, we recently attended the first Mud World festival in Ipswich. Kids of all ages were giddy with joy from flopping in the mud, flinging the mud, squelching up a hill of mud and zooming down the mud slide.
After two or three probing steps, my five-year-old eagerly waded in almost knee-deep, plunged his hands in, and brought out dripping fistfuls which soon decorated his whole body. In contrast, my toddler found the thickest, gloopiest mud unnerving to walk in and stuck to the dry edges. But she giggled going down the slide on my lap (I loved it too!) and couldn’t be convinced to leave the muddy pool at the bottom.
Aside from the tremendous fun to be had, research shows some serious physical and mental benefits of free play in nature. But the popularity of the sold-out mud event shows how many of us already want this type of play for our kids.
We remember a few decades ago our parents didn’t have to buy tickets to organised events for us to get muddy. We often came home in that state at dusk, after wandering between each other’s houses together. At the end of my childhood street was a vacant lot. The neighbourhood kids moulded the earth there into bike jumps and we were lost from view in the scrub. My husband remembers when he and his primary school friends dug a foot-deep trench in his parents’ lawn, then used the mud to build a dam upstream of the storm water drain. On the street, in the rain. It was no biggie in the 80s and 90s.
In 2018 it’s not so acceptable to give our kids free rein in dirt.
In 2018 it’s not so acceptable to give our kids free rein in dirt. At a BBQ last weekend when my daughter was digging with her hands in the garden, I simply dusted the worst of it off before handing her watermelon. Now, the “Modern Mums’ Rulebook” says the appropriate practice is to whip out wipes or sanitiser in such situations. So the fact I didn’t fuss about backyard dirt was unusual enough for my friend to remark on it with relief, “At last, a mum after my own heart!”
At Mud World, organisers Nature Play Queensland didn’t take chances with just any old mud. They trucked in screened, organic topsoil, mixed with drinking water. The kids also received safety goggles.
Project Manager Hyanho Moser says these precautions were to reduce parents’ worries, and see more children being allowed to truly let loose at the event. “I think generally as a community we're scared now,” says Moser. He points the finger at 24/7 access to news, which he says heightens our awareness of devastating but unlikely dangers, like children being hit by cars or abducted.
As well as being more risk averse, we modern families have less time for letting kids go free outside (and cleaning up the resulting chaos), and less opportunity to bond with our neighbours. Since the 80s, parents have steadily increased their combined working hours. An organised event like Mud World makes nature play easy by outsourcing the mayhem, creating an instant crowd of playmates and putting a time limit on it.
As well as being more risk averse, we modern families have less time for letting kids go free outside (and cleaning up the resulting chaos), and less opportunity to bond with our neighbours.
So can buying a ticket to a one-off event really help our kids get more outdoor time on a daily basis? For my family, it has. It gave me a shot in the arm to be more proactive about creating opportunities for nature play. I had front-row exposure to the joy kids experience when given free rein outside, unrestricted by adults saying, “Watch out for the puddle!” or “Be careful!” It reminded me that dirty fingernails are the hallmarks of a fun-filled day, and stained play clothes are perfect.
It also prompted me to find practical ways to bring the essence of Mud World - free play in nature - to our daily lives. I’ve since relented and let the toddler use the vege patch like a sandpit. I deliberately left branches and palm fronds on the ground instead of pruning them straight into the bin - my son and his friend made a cubby, and then jousting sticks. I see the creek bank as just as obvious a playdate destination as the playground beside it.
I’m yet to dig a mud pit and fill it with water, or bring in bags of soil for a mud hill. But if the alternative is to rely on outsourcing the creation of “real play” opportunities, then pass me the dirt. Garden-variety will be just fine.
