I’ve been tending fairly new sod and plants in my back yard along with the long established tree filled wilderness garden in the front yard. The sod and new plants were planted in late spring and fortunately the weather was kind and stayed overcast for the first several weeks of summer. The beginning of my sod care was easy because the sod came with a set schedule for how often it should be watered. I had to remember to water multiple times a day for the first week or so and then taper off. After that it was much more complicated.
Six weeks in, when the scorching southern California heat set in, it was a different story. I watched the sod daily and tried to assess whether it needed water or not. Certain areas started to look distressed with yellowing blades and some brownish patches. Every expert I consulted, both online and in person, said the same thing, “It could be too much water, or not enough water.” It is the same with many things I grow, especially roses and tomatoes.
Now, the long establish front garden can go with out water and avoid sudden death - although the huge redwood is looking distressed and I am trying to make up for the deep-water loss the drought has caused with some long slow drip to the root area. The tomatoes, newly planted roses and sod are on life support with their water needs during a heat wave. When I add my water conservation agenda it has taken a lot of sprinkler repair, hand watering specific plants and daily monitoring to make it through the crucial early weeks while sod and new plants were setting roots without wasting water.
It struck me last week while inspecting some distressed looking patches of sod that this “too much, too little water” dichotomy is actually a good metaphor for much of life. Certainly it applies to relationships, most especially to parenting. Books, articles, lectures and television shows are filled with examples and discussions of negligent parents and overly indulgent parents. My husband and I took our cues from our parents in our parenting styles. I pretty much replicated my mom’s approach “I just want my children to be happy” and my husband followed the loving but more
“hands off” approach of his dad.
It wasn’t until several years ago, when as parents of an addict/alcoholic, my husband and I started to go to Al-Anon meetings and heard our style of parenting shared by so many others. The life stories of these parents and their children are filled with examples of “too much support vs too little support.” How do you decide when you're hurting your child with your support? Or that standing back can read as not caring?
I learned that I needed to back off. I realized that I could actually “kill” my child out of love. I am a classic enabler. My drive to make sure everything goes well (according to my definition) robbed my son of the opportunity to learn that he was capable of being independent. My task was to start to temper my impulse to rush in whenever I even sensed he was having a problem and my husband had to learn to be involved and “be present” with him even when he had no idea what to do. I was an “over-doer” and my husband was an “under-doer.” When we saw him struggle I rushed in and my husband pulled back.
Just as with figuring out the water needs of my sod and tomatoes it takes time observing and assessing the situation before taking action. I learned to try more water in some distressed areas of grass and to let certain areas dry out. I practice a kind of Zen approach to letting it be for a few days in the shady areas while hand watering some of the full sun areas. I check the soil around my tomatoes before I water them. There’s a kind of dance of more and less with watering. In the parenting arena I learned an invaluable lesson from Al-Anon. I wait to be asked for help. Sometimes I have to almost literally bite my lip to not jump in unless I’m asked for help or for my opinion (which I used to feel was crucial!)
As with watering, sometimes the answer is just to back off and let it be.
