Lily tells me of how she misses grandma's fairy garden back in Phoenix and it aches to know how far we are from home. But this is home now. It is weird and takes a lot of getting used to, especially for a three year-old. So I try to make it into a place where she feels like she belongs, like she has what she needs, a place for her to call home.
Our home a rental so there isn't much I can do in our backyard, but we have been building a small garden and with that, I knew I wanted to give my littlest loves their own place for imaginative play in the dirt. We found a large rectangular planter at Lowe's, grabbed a few bags of organic soil (so fancy), found some sweet fairy garden decorations, and set to work.
I had all of these Pinterest dreams of the sweetest, put-together fairy gardens, and the controlling mama side of me cringed when I couldn't build it "just so" for her. No cute little succulents planted all around, no fake moss or what have you. Nothing is perfect and it doesn't look like a hobbit village. We didn't set it up all perfectly and then leave it alone, like maybe I wanted to do. We created a blank dirt canvas with different elements to move around and play with and "make talk" every day. I don't know why I have this idea that life should look perfect and still when she finds so much joy in the movable mess.
But Lily reminds me, every day, what childhood is meant to look like.
We play in the mud, we make fairies talk, we build and rebuild and grow as we go.
Life is messy and moving, we are finding home and making it all together.