Syracuse Parent and CNY Family

Brittney Fiorini Jerred is an award-winning columnist and the editor of "Syracuse Parent." You can leave comments below. She may also be reached at editor@syracuseparent.net

Imaginary world lightens real one
Posted on Mon, June 4th, 2007
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Earlier this spring, when the weather first broke, I found the Miracle Grow in the garage and my daughter and I mixed the soil with seeds in a few peat pods. It was a planned event, inspired by gardening tools Mary received for her birthday. I only had seven peat pods. (I’d owned these little biodegradable cups since 1999, which means they moved three times with us. I was anxious to finally fill them.)
I hoped I didn’t have too much planned before she lost interest and took off for the backyard, which was flooded from spring’s thaw. I quickly put her to work once we had our ingredients laid out and let her do the work. I gave her the trowel and she scooped a little dirt into each one. Then, we placed marigolds in three and tomatoes in the other four pods. We put a little more dirt on top of the seeds, watered, then waited. The whole project took about 45 minutes and she stuck with the job the whole time. About 10 days later, sprouts broke through the topsoil. I knew Mary would enjoy seeing these seeds come to life. It’s an impressive event at any age.
One day recently it was raining and Mary kept asking if she could go outside to plant seeds. I explained why she couldn’t about three and a half times. After she accepted the indoors surroundings, she improvised. She found her gardening gear—a pink plastic trowel and rake—and seed packages and pretended to fill peat pods on the livingroom floor. She asked me if I wanted to help. Of course I did. She was so earnest about her livingroom-floor garden, I couldn’t say no. I could see Cosmos and Sweet Williams sprouting before her. I jumped right down and held the pretend peat pods so it was easier to “fill” them. We shook the sealed seed packets and “watered” our new plantings. I felt like I was really gardening. She seemed pleased I was beside her playing in her make-believe garden. We even walked around the invisible containers so we didn’t tip them over.
There was another time recently when Mary pretended that the rug in our livingroom was a pool. I came home from work to find my daughter and my mother sliding down the “pool slide” and sitting on the “pool steps.” I got scolded for stepping on the slide when I came in the door. Mom looked like a kid to me that afternoon. She was really digging this make-believe playtime with her granddaughter. She made big “splashes” in the “water.”
I often overhear Mary’s farm animals talking and sometimes, they say things like “I told you not to jump on the couch” or “Your mama is going to be mad at you.” Sometimes the pig falls off the cliff and the cow saves her.
I’ve always admired the way kids use their imaginations. My sister and I would entertain ourselves for hours, imagining that a shark was between our twin beds, trying to pop the balloon we volleyed back and forth. It was fun. That shark sometimes got our balloon when one of us accidentally hit it toward the floor. When we lost the volley, we’d take turns fetching the balloon in dangerous waters with quick steps.
It had been a while since I joined in this kind of fun. As I sat and played in the garden on the floor, I imagined the weight of the pot, the light dirt filling the cup and the seeds taking root after the water touched the promise-filled soil. It took me out of my adult thoughts—the kind that make you feel heavy. And somehow after I imagined a garden for just a few minutes, I felt a little lighter—like the real world didn’t have as much on me as it did before. I am reminded again of all I’m learning as I teach.

Kaitlyn poses for her babysitter who took this image of her playing outside.