
Feature/General
How Do My Gardeners Grow?
By Cynthia Hamilton
April/May 2005
When my son was a year and a half
old I was desperate to find an activity that would get us out of
the house for little money
and would be satisfying to both of us. At the time, we lived in
western New York state where it was common to battle snow from
Halloween to Mother’s Day. So many times I remember standing
at the kitchen window feeling trapped by the snow banks that lined
our driveway and the four walls that seemed increasingly to be
closing in on me.
I needed an outlet, an escape from the hours of
Blue’s Clues
and block towers that had become my life. Little did I know my
escape was staring me in the face the whole time, albeit under
six inches of snow. As the snow melted and the grass turned green
once again, I realized I had no farther to look than my own backyard
for an escape from the confines of my house and an opportunity
for newfound freedom. Even after moving to Georgia, where we can
enjoy the outdoors for even more months of the year, gardening
continues to provide a unique and inexpensive opportunity for us
to spend time together, yet alone, and to independently discover
and share our own private passions.
For the cost of some basic plastic
gardening tools, my son was quickly captivated by his own new discoveries.
With his first pour
of his small watering can, he mastered the law of gravity and immediately
set off like a dog marking its territory, watering everything in
sight, including, but not limited to, plants, our shoes, car, lawn
furniture, and patio grill.
When he tired of watering, worms provided
another equally tantalizing attraction for both him and, later,
my daughter. Buckets containing
small worms, fat worms, worms cut in half, all properly identified
and categorized, lined the walkway as both children delighted in
delicately pulling the creepy, slimy creatures from the dirt as
I hid squeamishly behind my thick gardening gloves.
Beyond worms,
their harvesting skills were broadened to include helping pick
the tomatoes and peas we planted each summer and spring.
Very few made it into the house as both filled their stomachs with
the sweet red and green gems straight from the vines. From our
early successes, we went on to plant strawberries, blueberries,
grapes, eggplants, broccoli, and pumpkins while the scent of cobblers,
pies and pastries wafted through my mind. We all delighted in picking
out the seeds, nursing our seedlings and finally watching the fruits
of our labor develop. We seldom tired of tending to our garden
and never minded that most days all we had to show for our work
was a bucket of dried up worms left to bake in the warm sun.
Any monetary savings our sparse homegrown produce afforded us
paled in comparison to the priceless hours of peace and quiet gardening
provided me. Surely, this was my own private pleasure. As my children
broadened their explorations, I finally found myself free to let
my mind wander in ways that had become impossible when dealing
with the day to day demands of caring for two young children. Without
my toddlers’ seemingly constant interruptions, I at last
allowed myself the opportunity to dream once again. I could reflect
on myself, setting new goals and seeing new opportunities, reminisce
about the early more romantic years of my marriage, and appreciate
more fully the miracles that had become my children.
Gardening provided me the opportunity to indulge both my mind
and spirit. Through this new creative outlet I felt invigorated.
Browsing
through garden centers and flipping through gardening catalogs
filled me with new energy and purpose. I enjoyed experimenting
with the many vibrant colors and interesting textures that this
new “art” form provided. Over time, I was able to transform
my empty yard from something that had once seemed cold and abandoned
into a more warm and inviting space for my family to enjoy.
The satisfaction I derived from gardening brought another, but
just as important, benefit for me – avoidance. The days we
spent working outside gave me a convenient excuse to ignore the
constant chaos and mess that come naturally to a house with toddlers.
To be able to avoid the drudgery of housework even for a few hours
was particularly delightful. What a welcome relief it was to be
able to push aside the breakfast dishes and spend a morning planting
a rose bush with my children. What a tremendous pleasure to stand
at my kitchen window and look at the colorful blooms knowing that,
unlike dirty dishes or laundry, which are never truly done, I had
accomplished something of lasting beauty.
I must admit, throughout the years, for all the joy gardening
has brought me, it has also burdened me with a nagging and persistent
sense of guilt. For many years I passed up invitations to playgroups,
cut short our trips to the park, and, all too often, dragged both
kids off to the garden centers. Sadly, after all these years, I
still carry a lot of guilt. It has never vanished, but has rather
been
transformed. I no longer feel guilty over what my kids didn’t
do when they were very young. Today, I feel guilty over what they
now want to do. I worry that my son feels more comfortable in the
yard pulling weeds than throwing a baseball. I was embarrassed
this Valentine’s day when a cashier at the garden center
looked at me rather disapprovingly, not understanding both children’s
love of selecting and buying plants for their own garden spaces,
and said, “So, you kids are using your own money to buy these
plants.”
I am reminded by well meaning friends that every mother feels
guilty about something or other all the time. Yet, somehow this
seems
different. Sure, we all benefited from the fresh air and sunshine
we enjoyed while gardening. But, was I just kidding myself that
it provided anything more than a self indulgent hobby I performed
solely for my own personal pleasure? And so, knowing how long I
have struggled with this question now, all I could do was smile
to myself recently when, while planting a Lantana with my son,
he stopped, leaned back on his heels, looked at me with a big smile
and said, “Mommy, I really like gardening.”
As an afterthought, over
the years, I have found the following tips to be helpful
in making our gardening experience much more manageable:
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- I only use organic fertilizers and no pesticides so I
never have to worry about my children’s exposure to
dangerous chemicals. Besides, “feeding” the blueberry
bushes used coffee grounds still brings its own set of giggles.
- We each have one designated set of gardening clothes I
wash once a week to avoid adding to an already overstuffed
laundry basket.
- Gardening provides a great opportunity for potty training.
Weather permitting, you can take a portable potty outside
with you, and any accidents are easily cleaned up with the
garden hose!
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