Melissa's Place

Grass on the Change Table

Today, as with most days, I consider myself a productive person if I can perform even the most simple and mundane tasks while caring for my six-month-old son. My goal today: pick some spinach from my garden.

Cole loves being outdoors. So I took a blanket in one arm and tucked Cole onto my hip and out we went. I carefully put him on his belly on the blanket (he still topples if seated without support) near the laundry line. He lit up and began to methodically rip grass out with his chubby little fingers. I watched for a few seconds, assessing on my imaginary scale his safety and his contentedness before I moved to the opposite side of the garden where I could begin to harvest my spinach. After a minute, I glanced back and saw Cole, watching me with a gummy grin and lifting one slick, wet hand, peppered with grass towards his mouth.

"Cole...." I warned.

He continued to lift his hand.

"Don't eat that!" I ran towards him.
His thumb entered his mouth. Grass peaked out from the corners.
Then he saw me approaching and he took his hand out of his mouth and looked at me innocently.

I stood there for a moment. He looked back at me, balancing on his belly and his two hands. Then he began to tear up grass again and NOT eat it. I stood and watched some more.

Finally, I crept back to the other side of the garden. No sooner had I arrived to the opposite end of the tiny plot when he was moving his grassy, dirty hands to his mouth again, with that same knowing grin on his face.

"Cole!" I called again and he paused. He glanced at me and assessed whether I was going to act on my warning. I took a step towards him. He lowered his hands. I crouched again to pick spinach, and he lifted his hand towards his gummy grin again.

This dance continued for several minutes. Me hopping up and down, running back and forth along the yard, and Cole smiling with grass in his mouth.

Finally, after my tenth warning, I threw my hands in the air, spinach and all, with a sigh of resignation that many mothers before me (I know understand) have breathed and said, "I give up. Eat grass then."