One Last Spotty Dotty

I got a care package last weekend with a beautiful glass butterfly ornament inside.

As I admired it's pretty colors and sparkly glitter, I thought about how much raising kids is like raising butterflies.

*Both have their beginnings in tiny eggs.

*Once they "hatch" they immediately turn into munching machines. It was hard work to keep the caterpillars supplied with their foliage and likewise, feeding the kids takes up a lot of my time each day.

*Kids and caterpillars both seem to constantly need a bigger size clothing. Caterpillars typically split their skin 4 or 5 times as they grow. It seems like I'm never done sorting hand-me-downs and checking the clearance racks at Kohls and WalMart as I see another child's belly starting to poke out from beneath his Tshirt.

*Eventually, the caterpillars feel the need for privacy, then proceed to peel off their cute, pudgy outer skin to reveal a slimy, horror-movie inspired inner "thing" which eventually hardens to form their chrysalis. I've been told this is what adolescence will be like.

*Finally, after a long and anxious wait, the transformed creature emerges and a beautiful butterfly unfurls its wings. I think that's the phase when we get to see what our kids will 'look' like once they've worked through all the teenage stuff. I'm excited to find out what kinds of butterflies we're working on here at our house.

I imagine there's one other parallel, too. After all that work to preserve the egg and nurture the caterpillar and worry over the chrysalis, the time to relish the butterfly is fleeting. It doesn't hang out for more than a few hours until its wings are full of strength and ready to take flight. The long-awaited magic flutters off. I understand the same will happen one day with the kids. Once they're established in their hopes and dreams for the future, I expect that they'll take flight as well, very possibly without much of a glance backward.

But there's an important difference between butterflies and children to remember at this point.
Mother butterflies lay their eggs and leave them to face their future alone. There's no going in to check on the eggs in the middle of the night or escort a sleepy caterpillar to the bathroom at 2AM. True, mother butterflies don't have to endure the horrors of watching their precious caterpillars turn into a slimy unrecognizable blob before hardening into the chrysalis! But they also don't get to be part of the miracle of the cycle coming full circle...there's no holding grandbaby butterflies for them in God's plan. No coming back to the milkweed for a cup of tea. No floating side by side on the breeze with the one they've known their entire life. So as hard as the letting go is, I am comforted in knowing that children remember their way back. You remember that, too, Mom.

Love you,



For those who have been keeping track of our butterfly journey this summer, I have one final chapter to add to the story. A week ago as the kids were playing in the driveway, we noticed our friend Spotty on the butterfly bush. A bit ragged and faded, she seemed to be enjoying one last sip of nectar from the few remaining blooms. We quietly watched her for a few moments and then because she was too tired to make an escape, I was able to let the kids hold her for a minute. (Disclaimer: no butterflies were harmed in the filming of this wonderful childhood moment.)


Now that we're on to Jack Frost, I'm pretty sure it was the last Spotty Dotty of the season.