Rose-colored Glasses 

I like analogies.  
I realized, this morning, as I was weeding the garden, that our garden is a good analogy for parenting. Many times we think that our *stuff (insert garden or children here) is just as lovely to others as it is to us. We are so enamored by our stuff that we don’t consider that others may be offended or annoyed by our stuff.
Two scenarios to compare: preparing to sell our house and a recent experience meeting with a client at a restaurant.
House: I’m sitting in the side yard, under the shade of the tree, gazing at my garden growing nicely and all weeded and pretty, with my dear friend. I’m telling her about the projects we’ve been working on to get our house ready to put on the market next Spring. She says to me: “Are you going to turn the garden back to grass before you sell it?” I was surprised. You mean to tell me that other people won’t find the huge garden in the front yard (because that’s where the sun is) appealing? Won’t they be thrilled to see that the work’s been done for them and there are already perennial herbs and a fence to keep out the rabbits? Of course it won’t appeal to everyone, and most people do expect a yard full of grass to mow and play on. Huh. I guess we had better think about that. It will be work, and it will be sad, but it’s probably the right choice.
Restaurant: I’m meeting a client and in the adjacent booth is a mom with her young son (appears to be 3 or 4 years old). She is meeting a friend who does not have any children with her and they are enjoying catching up with one another. The boy, of course, finds this all very boring and begins to stand in the booth, look over the top at us, reach for my client’s shoulder and hair. Then he gets down from the booth and begins to wander the restaurant, looking in the dessert case and climbing on stools. Mom actually yells to him from her seated position to come back to the table (he is about 30 feet away). He doesn’t. She calls to him again. And again. Finally she gets up and goes to him. After a couple of minutes, she is back at the table, boy in tow, carrying a cupcake that she sets in front of him. You can imagine what is going on in my mind: “I wish I could work with her. I could tell her about Prep talks, and Take-Along Bags, and rewarding the behavior we want to see as opposed to the other way around.” But, of course, there was nothing I could do. She probably thought he was just so cute that no one would be bothered. Meanwhile, I’m struggling to stay focused on the conversation with my client, and to be heard over the mom’s hollering across the restaurant. Mom is clearly frustrated and having a hard time concentrating on her friend as well.
So, it’s good to get an outside perspective on our stuff. What seems pleasant and appealing to us may not be so for others. We do have some obligation to those around us and a responsibility to our community. I honor and rejoice in individuality, but not to the point of offending others.