Through A Child’s Eyes

The sunlight streamed through cotton candy clouds, enveloping every blossoming flower and blooming tree. Streaks of light cast patterns on the gravel as dainty daisies pushed their way towards the sun. The cold, crisp air filled my lungs with sweet breath. I paused, lost in the depths of my mind. Somewhere within, voices were shouting, "Do this, do that. Be here, be there. What are you doing? You need to stay with it!" They shadowed my mind with gray, gloomy thoughts while my head felt like it was lost in a haze. On the table taunting me was a piece of pink paper with a to-do list over a mile long. "Get going. This garden won't de-weed itself!" The checklist commanded. I sighed deeply, a reluctant weight settling over my shoulders. 

It was Sunday, a day for breathing, a day for relaxing, a day that was supposed to be just for me. But as every week goes, life got in the way and demanded I do other things. My husband was gone, traveling to Europe for work. His plane left this morning at 5:00; I watched it depart with a heavyweight on my chest. Alone I now stood, with a sleeping baby and a restless toddler, hoping to keep a grasp on my sanity. 

Breathing in softly, I knelt by the vibrant roses and began to pull weeds. The unwanted plants entangled themselves within my lovely flowers, covering up their strong stems and soft petals. One weed after the next, my movement became robotic, meaningless. The clovers and the dandelions, the thistles and the chickweeds, every trace of their reckless growth gone. The birds kept singing, the wind kept whistling, but my ears tuned out them all. My mind wandered to more pleasant thoughts, but amid my peaceful silence, a piercing cry came from the baby monitor. Little Olivia was awake. She whimpered and wailed, waiting for my presence and comforting arms. Brushing off the dirt, I walked inside to tend to my four-month-old. 

Olivia lay swaddled in her crib, tears streaking down her sweet face. The blue from her eyes contrasted with the pink of her cheeks. "Hello dear," I murmured, lifting her and holding her against me. She snuggled against my shoulder, her cries fading away. Her gentle heartbeat steadily against my chest, her breathing consistent and content. With Olivia quietly nestled in my arms, I wearily went to wake up my bright-eyed two year old, Emma.

Her room was rosy pink with a princess night light shining Ariel onto the ceiling. I sighed, watching as Emma lay stretched across her bed, halfway tangled in the covers. It was a relief to see her peacefully sleeping. I smiled, cocking my head and soaking up the pleasant silence. Olivia cooed, playing with the tips of my golden brown curls, looking up at me with curiosity and wonder. I stroked her soft tufts of hair, smiling at her blue eyes and round face.

"Mama?" Emma asked, rolling out of her covers. She rubbed her eyes sleepily. "Hey there, sweetheart," I said, sitting on the edge of her bed. She shifted, scooting over to lean against me. With Olivia cradled in my left arm, I lovingly stroked Emma's hair with my free hand. "What we doing?" Emma asked, yawning. "We're going to go to the garden. How does that sound?" Her tired eyes brightened. "Go garden?!" "Yeah!" She excitedly hopped up and ran to the back door, shouting "Go garden! Go garden!" I laughed, following her, hoping some of her bright and airy energy would transfer over to me.

Out in the warmth of the sun with nature's sweet music, Emma radiated with childlike wonder. Her curious eyes traced the backyard, leaving no leaf or flower unseen. She wandered over to the flowers, lovingly stroking a rose, and her gaze soon landed on my pile of weeds. She turned to look at me. "What that?" She asked, pointing with a chubby finger. "Those are weeds." "Pretty weeds!" She exclaimed, picking up a daisy. She walked over to me, proudly presenting her findings. "Look, mommy! Pretty flower!" Her perspective on the bothersome weeds surprised me- through her young eyes they were beautiful. I smiled, feeling a weight lift off my chest. "Yes dear, very pretty." 

In my arms, Olivia yawned. I had brought out her pastel bouncer to keep her safe while I worked. After laying her inside it with an elephant pacifier in her mouth, she fell quickly asleep. Emma continued to admire the small details, from the orange patterns on a leaf to the butterfly fluttering near a coneflower. Her positive outlook seemed to make the sunshine just a little brighter. I hummed as I pulled the weeds, handing her the clovers and dandelions- they were her favorites. She delicately pulled the petals off, arranging them in mosaic-like designs. 

I suddenly found myself admiring the simplistic beauty of these tedious plants- they were growing and blooming just as my roses and tulips were. Daisies and dandelions, thistles and chickweeds, lucky four-leaf clovers all soaked up the sun like sand on a hot summer day. These ordinary plants were known as a nuisance, but through a two-year-old's eyes, my perspective had changed.

 The birds were singing their whistling song, the wind was delicately tracing the flowers. Cotton candy clouds blanketed the sunny sky as brilliant rays of sunlight streamed through. Warmth bled through my clothes and encircled me in a gentle hug, and cold, crisp air filled my lungs. Olivia's sweet face was peaceful as she rested in the shade; her breathing steady and content. Emma was joyful as she embodied the beauty of our simple surroundings. She was my light when my mind was distracted- my little two year old had shown me a way to find peace and enjoy life throughout every moment. So now here I stood, alone with my daughters, and blessed with this bright and beautiful day.