Eyes of a Child

One of the best things about being a stay-at-home mom is not staying home. It’s having time to get outside and re-experience the natural world through the eyes of a child.

I recently finished reading “Reclaiming Childhood: Letting Children Be Children in Our Achievement-Oriented Society” by William Crain.

 

A devotee of the child-centered approach to learning advanced by Arnold Gesell and applied by Maria Montessori, Crain believes “children enter the world preeminently ‘wise’ about what they need and what they are ready and not ready to do.” Parents, then, ought to take their cues from children and create opportunities for them to explore what they find most fascinating.

 

There is little in nature that doesn’t enthrall my toddler. He likes rocks and dirt, long blades of grass, knobby pinkish seedpods on the tree near our mailbox. Leaves of all colors and textures are greeted with squeals of delight. He grabs treasures by the fistful and brings them home from every outing.

 

At the park today, puffy clouds perched overhead while the sound of water fountains in the lake thrummed a soothing rhythm. I noticed them because Carson pointed them out – more than once.

A single gorgeous orange and black butterfly and huge black-striped-yellow bumblebees buzzed happily around some periwinkle blue flowers. Carson watched them with rapt attention for several minutes, excited each time the butterfly opened her wings or a bumblebee traveled from one flower to another. I couldn’t identify the flowers by name, or tell you what kind of butterfly sipped their nectar this morning. Carson didn’t care – the bees’ busyness was entertainment enough.  

Turtles poked their heads up through mossy, slimy water plants and paddled beneath the bridge over the pond. Around them, small fish enjoyed the shade. My arms ached from holding my son up high enough to see the fish and the turtles but he refused to get down.

 

When we finally made our way back to the car, several bright yellow dandelions caught Carson’s attention. We released the seeds from a fluffy white dandelion – the first of many times I’ll see my son’s eyes light up as the wind catches the seeds and carries them away to places he can only imagine. I’m sure the gardener resents those dandelions, but they brought us joy.

All this I experienced because children need sunshine like they need food and water and love. As children, our connection to nature is deep and automatic. But it withers as we grow, spending more and more time indoors at home, in school, at work, in malls and restaurants.

 

Remember the sense of wonder inspired by ants carrying crumbs? Perhaps you lost it somewhere on the journey to adulthood. To reclaim that childhood magic, you don’t need to look any further than your own backyard. “The real voyage of discovery consists not in seeking new landscapes but in having new eyes.” Fortunately, that’s what children give parents.