Any of you with children know that there are many lessons to be learned from infants and toddlers.
I have a two-and-a half year old who’s too smart for her own good. She can be sassy. She now thinks sassiness is okay if she addresses me as “Honey” at the end of a brazen remark. Example: “Put my sandals on right now!...... Honey.” The comment is typically followed by a slight tilt of the head and overt batting of the eyelashes. She’s cute, and she knows it. She’s independent. She’s assertive. She’s funny. She’s smart as a whip. She’s unquestionably my daughter. Sometimes I watch her and fall in love with the life that I helped create. Sometimes I watch her make a mess and, in the moment, want to give up on motherhood all together. But if I take a deep breath and count to 10... or 20... or 5,793... I generally find a lesson to be learned. This week, I learned to notice the butterflies.
It’s summer. There are insects everywhere. We share our 1,400 square foot home with spiders, gnats, flies, ladybugs, ants, earwigs, moths, mice (in the basement), the occasional cricket, and countless other unidentified arthropods. My perpetually curious daughter loves to watch those insects. She’s scared of ladybugs...all other bugs are fair game.
A few days ago, the front door was open, and Daughter had her nose shoved up against the screen door as she watched traffic go by. She left her post and ran into the kitchen exclaiming, “Momma! Momma, look at the butterfly!” So I humored her and went to look at the “butterfly” that she was so excited about. Sure enough, something was on the screen of the storm door. She called it a butterfly, and she was thrilled to just stand there and watch it. But I was quick to correct her error. “That’s not a butterfly; it’s a moth.” She firmly stood her ground and maintained that it was indeed a butterfly. I let her “win” the argument and conceded that it was a butterfly.
I went back to cooking lunch, but kept thinking about the moth on the screen door. I wondered if Daughter really was right. I wondered if the insect on our screen door was a moth or a butterfly. So I went to the infallible source. I Googled it. Difference between moth and butterfly. I thought there’d be some huge entomological explanation to explain the difference between the two. But there’s only one thing that separates them. Do you want to take a guess to the one single tiny thing that makes a butterfly a butterfly, and not a moth? Here’s the difference: Moth’s have no “club” on the end of their antennae, but butterflies do. That’s it. A tiny little knob on the end of a tiny little antenna is the tiny difference that separates butterflies from moths.
Why did I think it was a moth instead of a butterfly? To be honest, because it wasn’t pretty enough. It didn’t possess wings with intricate patterns of three or more colors of the rainbow. It didn’t cheerily flutter about, landing on daffodils and blades of grass. It didn’t make me smile. Instead, it was a washed out brown color. It just sat on the screen of the door and didn’t move. Daughter and I were both looking at the same thing, but our perceptions were different.
My perception was skewed by opinions and biases and persuasions. Daughter had a clearer perception than I did. All she saw was an insect that had wings! She didn’t care about its wing pattern or color or habit of flight. She was just excited that a butterfly had landed on her door. She was enjoying every second of it, and wanted me to enjoy it with her.
My sassy two-and-a-half year old daughter taught me a lesson that day, a lesson about appreciating all the gifts I’m given, not just the pretty ones. The gifts I’m given don’t always meet my expectations. My kids came with health issues that can be inconvenient and downright scary. I’m married to a workaholic. I didn’t win the genetic lottery, and I don’t have the body of my dreams. There are some months when the paychecks don’t cover the bills. Friends have disappointed me with their words and actions. Life does not always meet my expectations.
But my daughter taught me to see the butterflies. My kids have health issues, but they’re gorgeous and happy and (relatively) well-adjusted. My husband is a workaholic, but he loves me and our children, and provides well for his family. My body isn’t perfect, but it allows me to get to where I’m going without any major aches or pains. Paychecks are small, but our fridge and pantry typically allow us half a dozen different dinner options. Some friends have disappointed, but others have offered more grace to me than I ever thought humanly possible. Life’s gifts aren’t always bold and colorful and cheerful. Sometimes life’s gifts seem boring and lackluster. But they’re gifts just the same.
So I will choose to have the eyes of a child. I will choose to see the beautiful in the midst of the plain, the magical in the midst of the ordinary , and the profound in midst of the simple. I will choose to see the butterflies.
