Dear Baby,

it’s spring.

It’s cold outside. I saw a snowflake. But, it’s spring.

I bought seeds. I’m going to start a garden on my roof.

Do you know what a seed is?

A seed is a strange tiny thing, like you, that, when planted and cared for will grow into a bigger thing. They’ll grow into flowers, or trees, or plants. The magical thing is, you’d never know by looking how much power and knowledge is contained in their tiny little bodies.

I have lavender, petunia, two types of sunflowers, and sugar baby watermelon. You haven’t tried watermelon yet, but by the time summer rolls around, and you’re starting to eat things like bananas and sweet potatoes, you might want to see what watermelon’s all about.

The garden’s just an idea right now, since I picked up the wrong type of soil. I have not yet discussed my plans with my two assistants, a mean little dog and the toddler who lives next door. I am, however, certain that they will want work with me to make my idea a reality.

Do you know what an idea is?

Ideas are elusive and sometimes hard to pin down, but once you catch one and look at it closely, you’ll see they are like seeds. First, you plant them, then you wait for them to take root. They know exactly what they’re supposed to grow into, even if you don’t. And sometimes they don’t grow at all, or they stop growing, or they surprise us by growing into something completely different.

Actually, seeds don’t do that last bit. I made that part up. That is where ideas and seeds differ. Unless you don’t know what you’re planting, in which case, what looks like a flower seed could possibly grow into a zucchini instead.

I have a confession to make, baby girl. I’m worried about my little seeds. I have a black thumb. I’m hoping my dog and the kid next door are better gardeners than me.

I have another confession. I live in mortal fear of your mother asking me to change your diaper. I have changed one diaper to date. It happened when I was twelve. It might be the single most traumatic event of my life. It might even be the very roots of my lifelong aversion to having children of my own. Which is okay. Because I have you to poke and tickle and squeeze and teach the wrong things to.

I made something I want to give to you. I didn’t make it for you. I made it before you were here. Well before. I made it when you were something between an idea and a wish.

It’s not perfect. I wanted it to be. I had big plans. And big ideas (which are like giant seeds). I was waiting for the right moment to unleash it into the world. Which is funny, because when I started making it, I had small plans. Someone planted a seed in me; I planted a seed from that seed. It was an experiment. Somehow the plans exploded. But, those plans didn’t work out, so I had small plans again. And then the plans ballooned. And then the balloon popped.

I’ve heard it said that sometimes you have to let things go. Set them free. And then move on.

So, I am doing just that.

Anyhow, you’re pushing five months. it’s about time you learn a thing or two about wishes.


your bad aunt


2 thoughts on “seeds

  1. Oh, Amy. What a beautiful video! How do I re-post it so I can share it with my little nieces?

    The notes to the baby always thrill me because they are so thoughtful, so honest, so down to earth and yet not dumbed down. I am a huge fan of you…but you already knew that 😉

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