The Raspberry Bandit
This year our raspberries went crazy (finally)! Jam city here we come or so I thought…the only problem was getting enough inside. We had two raspberry bandits nipping at our heels the entire season. As soon as we could put five in the jar, a chubby fist emerged from the same jar holding four, raspberry juice dripping from the crevices in the their hands. Raspberries were one of the first foods Noah ate and he has been an addict ever since.
This year we tried to teach him how to pick his own. He did well at first but realised his time to raspberry ratio wasn’t as fast as mine or Josh’s. He quickly bailed and continued to rob our jars. He was fearless ripping through the raspberry bushes, ignoring the thorns, in hot pursuit of fresh fruit. He didn’t care about the poking thorns or the leaves slapping him in the face. He was a man on a mission. After our picking, I had to do some of my own picking…picking thorns out of his feet. That was a super pleasant experience on a three year old. Once he got the jar from us he was pleased as punch, so proud of himself. He basked in the sunshine and ate his fill. I honestly don’t know that he would ever stop. I don’t know if that was the time to teach him about delayed gratification (making jam later). It wouldn’t have landed. My sister-in-law has a one year old son and asks me for Noah’s hand-me-downs. Honestly, most of his clothes should be burned after he is done with them.
I love that Noah enjoys whole, fresh food straight from the garden. I love watching him trundle about outside, weaving in and out of the raspberry bushes. Gardening has been a great way to show Noah how to be outdoors. We have had him in carriers while planting garlic, in pack-n-plays harvesting, and in the stroller weeding. Last summer he thoroughly enjoyed digging up potatoes. It was a little treasure hunt. I hope he never loses his inquisitive nature.
He has had no problem being dirty, however this is the first year he has actually enjoyed the garden. The first couple of years it was touch and go with Noahs’ relationship with the garden. See picture below. He used to rip dirt out of our houseplants, sprinkling it about the house. When I would take him to the garden and show him the dirt (same dirt) he would act like it was lava.
All kids like to eat garbage, so I’m not worried about him liking Reese’s Cups or Snickers. Not all kids like to eat whole foods. I hope through growing our food Noah can develop a healthy relationship with it. I hope he can realise where it comes from, the amount of work it takes, the nutrition, the connection to the land. I can’t wait until he has his own garden one day and is proud of growing things he’s eating. He may end up like my brother after years of tortuous garden work and swear off ever having a lawn or garden. My brother is silly though, he has a hydroponic garden. Jokes on him, dad won.
I have loved almost every minute of having him in the garden. There was one exception this year. He opened the gate to the chickens, then opened the gate to the garden and headed in. The chickens followed their featherless, fearless leader. Lemmings. Their little posse then swathed the seed bed where I had just planted. Noah butt scooting forward and the chickens right behind him devouring every seed he exposed. At the time, watching it, I didn’t know that was happening. When things started growing this year, there was a perfect trail of desolation where he and his cronies had been. I was devastated since this year we have been battling poor weather. Someday I’ll tell him the story and I’m sure he will think it is hilarious. At the end of the day it’s less about the product and more about the time you spend getting the product. A really destination vs. the journey situation. I love that Noah enjoys spending time with us and helping. I love that he is curious. I love that he has likes and dislikes, albeit frustrating at times.
So whether or not Noah decides to be a gardener in the future, he will always, in his heart of hearts, be a raspberry bandit.
