The plant didn’t need

As much water as I gave

Helicopter mom 

Today’s haiku doesn’t have as much to do with today’s painting as I’d like. But I will say this– I nearly killed a houseplant recently. The more it withered, the more I watered it, begging its brown leaves to turn green. Turns it out, it preferred far less and now I try mostly to ignore it, which is painfully hard for me. It’s coming back. It’s not big, but it did finally turn green again. 

I want so much to do a BIG tiger painting. I want so much to do BIG things. Today wasn’t the day. Today’s painting is of something big and fierce and substantial on a 4inx4in canvas that fits comfortably in my tiny hands. Yesterday, in the walker line to pick up my son from school, the mom in front of me dropped her keys so perfectly that they fell directly into the grate above a drain. Don’t worry another dad assured her, one of the first graders will be able to fish it out with her little hands. 

I all but tore off my jacket to reveal spandex and a cape. And with my tiny hand superpower– a tight squeeze, sure–I saved the day and retrieved the keys. 

What I suppose I might be saying is that small efforts, small things, LESS is, maybe, sometimes more. There’s a parenting lesson in there, for sure, obviously. And that lesson isn’t my strong suit. You get it. 

May this little painting help me with my little big tiger. May it remind me to water my plant less. May it remind me to celebrate small victories and the small hands that create beautiful things.