I am not a master gardener. I'm not even a very good gardener. What I am is a dedicated gardener. I keep the plants alive to the best of my ability. I give them time and the minimum water and nourishment and sometimes I get inspired and really go all in. And other times my plans completely fail because deer or drought or frost or bugs or I forgot to turn the hose off. Oops.
Its sort of like my parenting.
I'm keeping us alive. Our heads are above water, but you guys...these are not easy.
Yes, yes, you over there. With the two sweet babies who occasionally cry because their balloon got lost even though you told them they should tie it to their wrist or might *gasp* push their brother because he toppled their block creation. I'm not talking about you.
You see, while every child is unique and wonderful and an adventure to raise, I was gifted the other kinds of children. The children you see out in the world and you think to yourself, "well at least it's not my kid." I got the plot of land that's a combination of limestone and clay. It's as hot as the black tar in the summer and you've got pests. Those kinds of kids in that kind of garden.
You see, in the last year we've had diagnoses of ADHD, Dyslexia and Autism. Some of them have more than one of those 'labels' and all three of my older kids is in speech.
I'm not telling you this because I'm complaining, and I think that's where ya'll might get a little confused.
I am so freaking proud of our kids. I was blessed with these crazy, genius, atypical little brains to raise and we're in it for the long haul guys. These aren't no annual pretty little petunias I'm raising. I'm raising perennials. I've got a prickly little blackberry bushes, hardy grave vines and sturdy persimmons. Raising these kids could go south.
It's terrifying, to tell ya'll the truth. They have awesome potential and its more than a little scary. They could choke the life out of another plant. They might grow in such bent and twisted ways they may crack in the middle of their trunks.
But what if they don't? What if I can get them off to a good start? What if they provide shade and support and nourishment to all around them for years to come?
Then, perhaps, I will look back and call myself a master gardener.
