Our Midwest Garden: First Fruits

Attention, Parents! Herein lies the secret to your children eating their vegetables...

Have them grow their own.

This weekend marked our first garden harvest. What fun! I don't think I've seen Primo more proud than he was while eating lettuce and radishes grown from seeds he planted himself!

Lettuce is so easy to grow -- you can even sow the seeds in a flower box. Let your child water every day at first, then every other day. And when the seeds have sprouted and you need to thin the plants to let the lettuce grow healthy and large, serve your child a big plate of this:



Trust me, if your little one is anything like my oldest, he or she will eat like never before. When Grandma and Papa came by last night for supper, he even went into the garden to pick them one radish each. (And then stood by watching them eat and waiting for words of approval.)

On the way to school this morning, he said to me. "Thanks for teaching me to be a farmer, Mom. I think it's my talent!"

I thought, Maybe it is... maybe it really is.

- Midwest Mom

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Looking for ways to get your child started helping in the garden? Check out Gardening with Kids: An Easy Guide at Midwest Parents. There's no better time than now to get gardening!

Misadventures of Wondermom: True Story #527

In this episode, we join our heroine at the local playground where she and her rag-tag band of mini-heroes -- Primo, Brain (aka Captain Kindergarten), and Princess Peanut -- are training in an attempt to further hone their superpowers. Little do they realize that a routine training session can lead to some of the greatest challenges they have yet to face.

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Climbing deftly to the top of a rotationally molded, ultraviolet light stabilized polyethylene plastic behemoth from the deep, Brain calls out to one and all "Look at MEEEeeeeeeee!"

But he realizes his fateful error too late! Increased visual attention has thwarted Brain's grip of ultimate firmness. (Either that, or it was his slippery supermittens...) At any rate, his cry for attention echoes endlessly as he plummets into the mulchy abyss.

Instantly, his faithful companion Primo is at his side to assess the extent of the damage.

As Brain writhes silently amid the wood chips, Primo asks a series of probing questions.

"Did you hurt your head?"

Brain shakes his head, no.

"Did you hurt your back?" no.

"Did you hurt your arm? your legs? your nose? your funny bone?" no, no, no, and no.

"Did you hurt your..." Primo looks shiftily from side to side and envokes his power of stealth-speech, "tenders?"

Wondermom's superhearing powers up.

She continues to push Princess Peanut on the swing and notes to herself that four viewings of Kung Fu Panda seem to have brought some new terminology into the mini-heroes' vocabulary.

After what seems (to his brother) like an eternity, Brain musters the strength to speak.

"Not my tenders." he states in clinical gasps, "the place right next to them." A pause. "I think it's called your groan."

Brain surreptitiously indicates the place to his trusted friend.

[Pretending not to pay attention, Wondermom invokes her power of giggle suppression.]

Primo places a sympathetic hand on Brain's shoulder. His tone is instructive. "That's not your groan. It's your crutches."

[Wondermom boosts giggle suppression to maximum.]

Brain responds, "Yeah? Well, I think I just broke my crutches."

With naked shock and deep concern, Primo sets his supervoice on full power, "Mom! BRAIN JUST BROKE HIS CRUTCHES! HELP!"

"Oh, no!" thinks Wondermom, "full failure of giggle suppression systems!"

The laughs are coming! She is powerless to stop them!

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Can Wondermom regain her composure?

Will flashbacks reduce her to teary-eyed laughter?

Find out next time on --

Misadventures of Wondermom!

Giving Primo his Props

You think you know your children, but every so often they give you a true glimpse of what they're made of... on the inside.

My oldest son is a runner. My husband and I call him 'Primo' as a way to talk about him in his own presence. He's seven, so that kind of trickery still works on him. Every Monday of the summer, he races cross-country in a program put on by our local running club. His race is the mile and he loves it. He usually finishes first or second in his age group, and we encourage his enthusiasm for the sport. On non-race days, he will often run with his Dad, who also ran cross-country years ago. I love it that they share that time.

Sometimes, however, Primo's races don't quite go as planned. His toughest obstacle this year has been the starting line. It is not as well-regulated a start as it could be, so when the starter's whistle blows, there is a tangled stampede of 6 to 9 year olds running like mad for the first 50 yards of the race.

We've tried to have him stand at different places along the line, but there is always pushing and shoving... it's been tough on him (and even tougher on his mother watching him).

That is, until last night.

The whistle blew, and what a start he had! He was running strong and fast with an excellent starting sprint. Of course (you knew this was coming) until a large-ish boy a head taller and 20 pounds heavier tripped and fell right into him. The boy got up and continued running, but my son lay there like a slapped mosquito. Needless to say, I ran.

By the time I got to him, the starter and Primo's soccer coach were at his side. He was dazed from a sneaker to the head and he had scrapes on hands, elbows, and legs. His face was contorted at the injustice of the whole thing. It had been his best start ever! I did my best to keep my cool and give him a quick check.

He was crying out his rage. Quietly I looked him in the eye and asked, "So, do you want to race? Or should we sit this one out?"

His green eyes narrowed and he set his jaw. "I want to race."

He then proceeded to run the best race I have ever seen him run. Even after standing there for at least a minute and a half while we checked him out, he finished in the middle of the pack. I couldn't believe it.

I thought, what toughness! This is MY SON.

I have never been more proud than I was last night... and still am. What is even better, though, is to see his pride in himself. To stumble and fall but to get right back up again, to use the experience to move forward, do better, run faster... what an amazing step for him. I am so grateful for the blessing of being there to see it. I'm even more grateful for my amazing son.

- Midwest Mom