"I love you and want for you all things that make you happiest; and I guess you, not I, are the one who knows best what those things are."

Monday, September 27, 2010

My Own Therapy

One of John's favorite pastimes since we've moved into the rental house is to sit in the neighbor's backyard and watch the cars on the highway drive past.  We sit on the bank, count cars, wave to motorcycles, and say "vrrrmmm, vrrrmmm."  He LOVES it!  I, on the other hand, have never been much into cars.  Unlike his father, I can't identify the makes and models as the cars pass by and I will never know how many cylinders are in the engine of any car based on the sounds it makes as it leaves the stoplight by our house. 

Yet, I have grown to love the time we spend watching the cars.  Why?  Because I spend that time weeding the neighbors landscaping.  Weird, right?  The bed next to where we sit has become long overgrown.  It was clearly put in to make the neighborhood look nice from the street in front.  The plants, mostly greenery, are still in great shape, but weeds have overtaken the area. 

I like to think that my weeding the bed is a subtle way of saying thank you to our neighbors for letting us sit in their yard a few afternoons a week.  More importantly, I find the weeding extremely therapeutic for some reason.  The process of deciding something is weed-ish and yanking it out of the ground is most enjoyable.  I believe it gives me a sense of control in a life that is often controlled by toddler naps, nursing babies, and husband travel schedules.  I love that every time I walk away from that bed, it looks just a little bit better. 

I'm not sure the neighbors even notice us sitting at the edge of their yard.  I doubt seriously they realize the bed is being weeded.  They have a lawn service that cuts their grass so I don't even think they even notice the weeds laying in the yard waiting to be run over by the lawn mower.  The cars driving by probably don't even see the bed.  (I've lived in this area for nearly 20 years and never noticed it until I was looking at  moving into the house next door.)  Yet, we sit there.  It's become my own therapy session a couple times a week.  John watches the cars, I weed the bed, and Nathan - well, he just hangs out with us.

So, if your looking for my therapist's office, it's the space closest to the weed free area of my neighbor's landscaping.

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