Building vs. Planting

For Christmas, Youngest Brother gave me a sweet little book of Paulo Coelho's quotations titled, Life. One of the excerpts jumped out at me as being very applicable to raising children:

In his or her life, each person can take one of two attitudes:

to build or to plant.

Builders may take years over their tasks,

but one day they will finish what they are doing.

Then they will stop, hemmed in by their own walls.

Life becomes meaningless once the building is finished.

Those who plant suffer the storms

and the seasons and barely rest.

Unlike a building, a garden never stops growing.

And by its constant demands

on the gardener's attentions,

it makes of the gardener's life a great adventure. -- Brida

I realized upon reading this that there is a constant temptation to "build" my children into the beings I want them to be: well-mannered, well-behaved, smart, creative, independent (but no talking back!), silly (put your PJs on now!), curious (well, honey, that's just the way it is) and yes, adventurous people.

But the truth is, their development is not in my control. No matter how often I think I can control their outcome, it is simply not up to me. It's challenging to sit back and wait for a seed to sprout, to passively witness how it takes shape in its own way, in its own time.

My responsibility is to guide and teach my kids. But they will grow as they choose and are able. I'll suffer the storms and barely rest. But the adventure all along the way is mine - and theirs - to experience.

Ladybug Lessons

Yesterday, I opened the door to my back deck into an explosion of ladybugs. Yes, dozens, maybe hundreds, of lucky little black and red insects crawling over railings, siding, table and chairs. What really caught me by surprise was the fluttering of teeny tiny wings up into my face, around my hair and out over the yard. I waved my hands, brushing the pretty pests away, and prayed I wouldn’t insult their lucky charms.

Could this mean we’re in for a lucky spell? A really lucky spell? Like, if the entire backside of my house is covered with ladybugs, maybe we’re in for the lottery, a trip to the South of France, free preschool tuition next year…even a quiet night when the kids miraculously fall asleep early?

I ran through the fluttering wings to safety in the backyard, where my children played unaware of our ladybug intrusion. How many wishes could I manage to make on all these ladybugs? Would random wishes offered into the flurry of multiple wings count? Like when you release a ladybug from your finger, close your eyes, and silently pray for the cute guy to ask you on a date? Okay, that was way back then when I made carefree wishes on ladybugs who chanced to land near me.

Now, I’m a harried mother of two toddlers with the chance to wish upon a hundred ladybugs cavorting around my house. What will it be? How many wishes can I imagine?

Okay, real quick while the kids are playing on the swings, I wish:

• That they’ll grow old together, laughing and leaning on each other as they do this afternoon.
• That I’ll let them run around and play carefree, holding back from telling C. to pull up his pants and shouting at S. to BE CAREFUL!
• That I’ll stop worrying whether they’re eating enough vegetables and bartering dinner for dessert as if it were a hostage negotiation crisis.
• That I’ll relish the ONE MORE story C. begs me to read before bed instead of wishing I had more time of my own.

I suppose my children are a little like ladybugs. They’re beautiful and precious and they carry a magical aura of all things possible. And sometimes they can just be pests. I guess this afternoon’s fortune is that my little ladybug moment has taken me away from their peskier qualities and back to their beauty.

PS
I did a little research and it turns out, according to The Ladybug Lady, that ladybugs like to hibernate on the south side of light colored houses. Apparently the unusually warm weather has drawn them out in mid-afternoon. Looks like they’ll be with us until Spring.