For the past nine months, I have loved and cared for a tiny human. With my attention, dedication, and patience, he has bloomed into a beautiful, smart, funny little almost-toddler.
Today I planted seeds.
I suppose the parallels here are obvious enough. I didn’t do that on purpose. As I was sowing these seeds I fought hard the temptation to make every step more meaningful than it was.
Oh Look! The soil I use has to be warm and nutrient-rich for the little seed to sprout just like our home!
Some day I’ll have to prune this little plant, which is like disciplining a child!
I’ll have to set the plants in the sun and I want to raise my kid in the SON!
At about that point, I reminded myself that these are just seeds and my kid is a human. But sometimes that symbolism shouldn’t be ignored…
The Rafes bought me an adorable seed kit from Sarah Rainwater Design for Mother’s Day. It came with four adorable biodegradable pots, four adorable packets of seeds, and one set of step-by-step instructions that I’m certain I screwed up.
You see, I have tried this whole “grow stuff” thing before: flowers on the back patio and one mighty effort at an herb garden.But either in my enthusiasm for homegrown food (“USE ALL THE CILANTRO!”) or my unfamiliarity navigating what we call “that hot Texas heat”, I have killed everything I have ever planted. It’s discouraging. So in the spirit of doing new things, today I planted a vegetable. Two actually: cherry tomatoes and zucchinis (and some lemon mint and basil but those won’t count since I have already attempted them).
I read through the instruction page multiple times before beginning, stressed out too much about the soil I used, and walked three laps around my house searching for the spot with the most direct sunlight but also wouldn’t be “out of sight, out of mind”. I still have questions about the directions, I’m not sure about the difference between soil and dirt, and that spot in my house doesn’t exist. So worrying is useless.
I gathered the supplies I needed and sat in front of the largest window in our house. I still don’t trust that 3-5 seeds per pot is going to be enough, but I did my best to follow instructions exactly. If that care guide knows what it’s talking about it, I should have some seedlings in 2-3 weeks.
I’m trying not to get too hopeful here, keeping the definition of insanity in mind, but I’m really, really excited. Excuse me while I daydream a minute: what if my giant pecan tree in the backyard was sprouted in some scared woman’s window in the 1940s? I wish I could ask her questions like if she was diligent about tending to her seeds or if she just threw some in a can to see what happens. I wonder if she’d planted anything before and what made her plant this one. I wish she could see the tree now and know how much I enjoy looking at it, how its squirrels drive my dog crazy, how it shades my backyard enough to let my son play in the grass without getting burned. What a miracle this tree is.
I know my son is a miracle. Maybe my zucchini plants will be a miracle too.