Saturday, June 4, 2011

More Stories from the Garden: Growing a Mother

Tonight I leaned into my mom's shoulder, and she stroked my hair the way she used to when I was just little.  For some reason, the tears started to well up, but I didn't pull away like I normally would have, busying myself with something small in the kitchen, especially if I'd spent the day being tough, and I was being tough today.  And tired.  I think God's answer to some of my prayers for help completing projects results in me waking before the sun comes up with a sudden burst of energy, so at 5:30 this morning, I was up and working on my online class.  Then it was off to the diamond mines (the world outside of plants and animals and flowers).

The mosquitos were talking about my blood type.  I'm sure many of you overheard conversations like this today.  I doused myself in bug spray and spent a good 4 hours working outside--replanting beans and onions, weeding by raking my fingers around the new plants. They're so fragile right now, especially the carrots.  For those of you out there with carrots coming up, resist the urge to hoe or pull weeds near them right now.  They are clinging to dear life and need a bit longer to establish their footing.

Growing so far, I have purslane, lambsquarter, a brave dandelion, grass, 354 volunteer tomato plants, 79 volunteer squash plants, and dill.  Somewhere in between all of this noise are the rows I planted.

My mom called to say rabbits had been eating her beans.  She wanted to know if she could spray pepper spray on the plants to deter them.  I told her to just go to the source and mace the rabbits.  I've got orange beetles eating my leaves, but I've started a homemade pepper spray here ( 1/2 cup of dried peppers to a quart of water, set in sun for a day, put in spray bottle and go to work--don't spray this in your eyes.  Not that I ever have.)

I planted flowers in pots and lined the front steps with them.  Walking into my house right now is...I could just stand in front of the house for days.  Maybe Nora would bring me a snack and some juice.

Speaking of that girl, she went to sleep tonight after we'd read a book about the different emotions we have saying she felt loved and excited.  Score.  (This book is as much for me as it is for her.  I make so many mistakes with her.  I pray and pray to remember patience, a gentle voice, to put myself in her little summer flip-flops.)  I just worry so much, and I become over-protective and dogmatic, perhaps.  I need to loosen up a little.  Truly.  And this brings me back to my mom, my head on her shoulder, and now the tears are finally falling free.  Because being a mom is not for the faint-hearted, requires tears.  Tears like a garden needs water.  But mostly, I need to remember to laugh.  Would you pray for all moms tonight?  And if you are a mom, pray twice.  We need all the help we can get for our children's sakes.

1 comment:

  1. Moms are the ultimate teachers, really, and I've learned that really good teaching comes with a lot of tears, too. I know for a fact that you're a great mom and teacher.

    Praying for you. And your mom. And the moms surrounding you. And the ones surrounding me, too. You're all amazing. :)