Warning: It Was a Circus Here Today
Ta-Da! I throw my hands wide and gesture to a pile of empty racks as if showcasing my greatest accomplishment. To many, it may not seem like much. But my mom, she understands, this is my stack of trophies.
Spring has sprung at The Garden Corner, with a vengeance, I might add, and every day more and more racks roll through bringing new plants into the store. A flurry of constant activity that is just enough to make anyone’s head spin. At the end of the day, a stack of empty racks is proof that I did apply efficient effort for the day.
Every evening, as my Mother comes home from work, we take a walk through the nursery with my daughter. Proudly showcasing everything that I accomplished for the day. We sip a warm drink, knowing it is much too late to reasonably drink a full cup of coffee, however tempted we may be. Recently, I have noticed the flicker of exhaustion hidden behind her smiles.
I have recently begun to feel the same ache. It is a very specific numbness that only comes after a busy day, a day I would describe as a day in the circus. My mom, she understands.
It is the kind of busy that fuels your adrenaline. Your heart is keeping a steady pitter-patter as your step meter increases each lap. A smile fills my face as the burn in my legs alerts me to a good day’s work. Rarely do I notice the spread of dirt collecting across my shirt until it is much too late to be embarrassed, the splattering a badge of honor as proof of a productive day. It is the kind of work that feels substantial. Rewarding even.
But by the end of the day, that energy fades to an emptiness. Borderline exhaustion. That is when the real work begins. When the fun and bustle of the day suddenly transforms into clean-up duty. Picking up the toys, collecting the laundry from all of the play time we accomplished, and finishing the dishes that piled up. Hands down, the hardest part of my day is loading up the two-year-old into the car and keeping her awake for the drive home.
Pulling into the driveway after a long day at work only highlights what I did not get accomplished. My own yard, my own dishes, my own laundry. It is times like these that I remember my mom’s simple Mother’s Day request. Every year, all she wanted was a day of quiet where she could work in her yard. Now that I am a mom, I understand.
Ta-Da! My daughter throws her hands out wide and gestures to a stack of blocks taller than herself. Her stack of trophies for the day. I watch, and I smile. All day long, my little one had been busy working right alongside me: pruning plants, drinking hot chocolates, and inspecting all of the sprinkler systems. Keeping up with the same level of energy and happy attitude. Now she was exhausted, and she has the hardest part of her entire day ahead of her, avoiding bedtime. I am her mom, I understand.
This year for Mother’s Day, I have a simple request. I want a whole truck full of planting power, enough to spread a whole layer across my yard. I want a coffee, one that I am able to sip on while it is still warm. Then, I want to see the pile of trophies that my daughter has collected throughout the day, proving that she was indeed productive.