The Fruits of My Labor April 8, 2010

Oh the gardening!! The planting, digging, shoveling, mulching, raking, weeding…..need I go on? Here’s the thing: I am learning to love it! Truly! I get giddy in March in anticipation! Now, I must rewind a bit. If you are someone who has known me for any length of time, you know that I make no secret of my disdain for digging in the dirt. I do not particularly enjoy digging it out from under my fingernails. I do not like to look in the mirror and see smudges of soil across my forehead and chin. In fact, I am known for clean children who smell of baby wipes. When they were self-feeding toddlers, my children’s little white onesies stayed white. Beautiful, glistening, white. Why, when I dislike dirt on my children, would I willingly put my own self in dirt’s way? I’ll tell you why: produce! Fresh, chemical-free produce. Beauty. Colorful, fragrant flowers. It’s simple really, I enjoy the fruits of my labor. It all started when my older son, who was two at the time, decided he wanted to plant tomatoes like the dog Blue on Blues Clues. Well, the gardener inside of me took off from there. I can’t stop! Do I still abhor shoveling and mulching? Yes! Do I still disdain sticky, smelly soil under my nails? Absolutely! The fact is though, that I have found gardening to be comparable to raising children. The sacrifice, hard labor, and sore sore back are forgotten each time I gaze on the seedling that has grown into a beautiful plant. The digging, much like potty training, yields results that allow certain freedoms and a sense of accomplishment. My soul, spirit, and body are fed as a result of simply dropping a tiny seed into a pile of manure. Yes, indeed, a gardener and a mother… they are one in the same.