Dandelions

Spring is here, which means more time outside with the kids, and more things for them to explore.  It means walks, bike rides, and wagon adventures.  It also inevitably means that my precious babes will be so thoughtful as to stoop down and excitedly pick as many dandelions as they can get their hands on and present them to me as if they were a bouquet of sweet smelling roses.  “Flowers!” they exclaim with enthusiasm whenever they come across a yard that has been fortunate enough to escape fertilizer and instead embrace its natural tendencies.

“Oh great,” I think to myself.  Dandelions stink, and they’re sticky, and they stain.  If I absentmindedly stuff them in my pocket and forget about them, they dry up and each individual yellow spike flakes away and finds hidden corners of fabric, all in an elaborate plot to invade my laundry.  As if I needed more invaders, what with the tissues and stickers and rocks and sand and beads and crayons and other paraphernalia of early childhood.  Also, it would be one thing if my children would actually gift me the dandelion with the stem attached – a long-stemmed dandelion, if you will.  It sounds fancier.  But no, most of the time I get the head of the flower, plucked off just below the base.  What am I supposed to do with that?

I admit, many times I nonchalantly chuck those dandelions as soon as my kids look away, hoping they don’t ask me later about the flowers they picked.  After all, I don’t want to end up in a laundry situation (see above).  I also have learned to keep my hands free at all times in case I need to swoop in and correct a misbalanced bike before it topples over, or re-fasten a seatbelt in the wagon for a certain stubborn two-year-old who I am convinced would stand up in the car with her head out the sunroof if we allowed it.  So, in the name of safety, and agility, and cleanliness, I discard that foul yellow foliage like trash.  After all, they’re just…weeds.

Today as I was driving to work I passed through a neighborhood with large front yards, the houses set back from the street with long, sloping lawns reaching toward the sidewalk.  The grass has greened up nicely with all the recent rain, and many homeowners have already completed their first mowing of the season.  But some lawns are still thick and long, alive from their winter slumber and yet untouched, blowing freely in the wind.  I noticed a stretch of these lawns and was struck by something – they were dotted with yellow dandelions that also swayed gently in the breeze, and the whole scene was, well, pretty.  The dandelions looked cheerful and bright, and they added happy little accents of color to the green background.  I don’t know that I’ve looked at dandelions that way since I was a kid.

And suddenly, I got it.  I understood what my children see when they come across a patch of weeds, err, dandelions.  After all, if you really think about it, what makes dandelions so different in appearance from a mum or zinnia?  Nothing, really.  They’re a flowering plant, and they’re pleasing to the eye.  A true sign of spring, renewal, and persistence.  So what is it about our children’s perspective that makes them see flowers where we see weeds?  They don’t know any better yet, and just as in many other cases, I think that plays to their advantage.  The ability to look at a lawn full of yellow flowers and see beauty rather than a chore is a true gift, one tiny way we can find joy in the simple everyday things.

As I was pondering this, I did a little light research on dandelions and found a few inspirational quotes (inspiration from a weed – who knew?!  Your kids did, that’s who.  Side note: I am a total sucker for inspirational quotes). 

“Some see a weed, some see a wish.” (no author given)

“Weeds are flowers, too, once you get to know them.” (A.A. Milne)

The rebel in me particularly likes this one:

“A weed is a plant that has mastered every survival skill except for learning how to grow in rows.” (Doug Larson) 

Go get it, dandelions.

I wouldn’t say that I suddenly love dandelions, or desire to keep arrangements of them in vases throughout my house, or would willingly invite them into my yard, but I do have a different perspective now.  The next time I see a collection of them dancing in a spacious front yard, I can just enjoy the beauty, and choose to see flowers rather than weeds.  The next time I see a stray dandelion creeping over the sidewalk, maybe I won’t cringe and hope my children don’t spot it.  And the next time one of my kids proudly transfers a mushed-up collection of dandelion heads from their hand to mine, I’ll keep the smile on my face longer than I usually do.  I won’t immediately throw them away, nose crinkled as I quickly rub my hands together to remove the remnants.  I will hold those spikey little petals tenderly in my palm, and treat them like the gift they were intended to be.  After all, I want my kids to see many more flowers and wishes and possibility in this world than they see weeds.  And when you think about it, that’s really just a matter of perspective.