I am planting an altared space this year and I’d love to have your help. In this garden, along with planting the traditional things that grow, I’m collecting treasures that tell stories. Please send me a symbol of your altared space.
Today is St. Patrick’s Day. There’s a tricky little leprechaun that comes to pay us a visit each year on this day. Today he has left banners of toilet paper and colored streamers strung across the living room.
Some years he has turned everything in our house green. He leaves a green trail of sparkly confetti everywhere he was, turning over chairs, upsetting the entire environment. He even turned the bath water green and left us green milk in the fridge.
One year my children set a trap for him, trying to catch him. They baited it with gold foil balls. But he’s elusive, that tricky little fellow. He’s not to be caught.
On the upside, he leaves behind chocolate gold coins or golden nuggets that fall out of his bag I suppose. He moves fast; isn’t very careful, I guess. We have to clean up after him, but we get to eat chocolate while we do it. It’s a nice accompaniment to the green beer.
My children now refuse cereal on the mornings the leprechaun has been here. I guess green cheerios, despite the fact that they taste the same, have absolutely no appeal.
I’m planting the green of this day in my garden to remind me that light bends when parenting is fun. Sometimes I get lost in the nagging of dirty socks left on the couch or dishes that linger in odd corners. I want to plant happiness in my home.
Are there moments that pepper your parenting with delight to balance the adult voice that sounds like a kill-joy? I’d love to know about what happens in your home. Send me some news about the rhythm inside your four walls.