Tuesday, 10 April 2018

It doesn't have to be deep


Here are two things you should know about this month:

1. I quit my job, so there's that (read about it here).

2. It's supposed to be spring but IT AIN'T!


In response to the second statement (or maybe in trying to figure out the first one), the girls and I decided we were going to plant some seeds in potting soil. If you live in Canada then you're aware that we don't plant anything outside until after the long weekend near the end of May and you're also 100% a better gardener than me.
Current weather.

Regardless, off we went to Home Depot, filled with cheer and enthusiasm, to pick up some dirt and a diverse variety of seeds. Emily wanted sunflowers. Gabby wanted corn. I picked a four pack of herbs. There might have been some flower seeds as well.
It's hard to tell because once we got home and decided to dump potting soil into the tiny plastic pots, we didn't mark a darn thing. It's called SURPRISE gardening, people. 

We put the pots on a bench in front of the living room window and called it a day, each in our own way. Emily, the four-year-old, gently and lovingly conversed with the messy piles of dirt we'd created. Gabby, the two-year-old, ran her muddy hands along any textile in the room that appeared too clean and I sighed and dutifully attempted to deal with the aftermath of dirt and water and seeds all over the kitchen table.

VoilĂ ! We did a thing!

Over the next 4 days, we had many questions.

Me: What was I thinking? What happens if nothing comes up? Did we drown them? What takes stains out of furniture?

Emily: Did we plant the seeds correctly?  Are they upside down? Are they deep enough? Should I water them again? It's been five minutes...

Gabby: Why can't I eat it? If I poke at the dirt, will anyone know? Should I wipe my hands on the white chair or the piano? Why not plant some toys too?

But wouldn't you know it, four days later, against all gardening odds, there were three mystery little green shoots bravely popping out of the swamplike concoction Emily had been faithfully and lovingly flooding.

It's been a couple weeks and let's just say our success rate wasn't 100%. There are a few moldy pots in which I'm pretty sure we're growing penicillin. The dog likes to lean her head on the unidentified herbs as she stalks the neighbours. Gabby keeps nibbling at what we think might be sunflower leaves.



But somehow, someway, what was supposed to spring up did.

It doesn't have to be deep.

It doesn't have to in order or labelled, the right way round or done just right.

Which brings me back to the first thing. 

I quit my job and if you're a mom, you get it. Some of us desperately want to and can't. Some of us don't want to and love our jobs and feel relief at leaving the house. At some point, all of us wonder what would happen if we were doing something differently. 

So here I am. I loved my job and I closed that door. I'm not very crafty or bak-y or good at the toddler phase. I love my kids. I chose to be here. Now it's time to figure it out.

It's a lot like the muddy, messy cheap little plastic tubs. I think this season is going to look like digging in, throwing out a bunch of different ideas and then seeing which ones survive the alternating overtending and neglect.

In the meantime, we'll keep apologizing and laughing, figuring out a routine and what to do with the mess we create.

But I know it's going to be okay.

What is meant to last will spring up.

It doesn't have to be deep. 
 
Relax, breathe, carry on. And maybe buy some spray-n-wash.



Isaiah 43:19 See, I am doing a new thing!
    Now it springs up; do you not perceive it?
I am making a way in the wilderness
    and streams in the wasteland.

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