Baby Groot and Space
I bought myself a baby Groot planter for Christmas.
It is less than a foot tall with wide brown eyes, a soft smile and it’s holding a nest with a cute yellow bird inside of it. Groot is in the sitting position; its two small tree branch feet sticking straight out, revealing a plethora of different roots. There is an opening at the top of its young sapling head to plant something small. I shoved a basil plant inside of its head about a week ago and renamed Groot, “Baby Basil Groot.”
Groot is a tree with a limited vocabulary of three words “I am Groot,” and a limitless amount of intonation, empathy and compassion in those words. Groot is a member of Marvel’s Universe, a fan favorite in the “Guardians of the Galaxy” movies, and a nostalgic memory for me, of the time between Christmas and New Year’s where time stood still as my family and I spent watching all the Marvel movies in chronological order on Disney Plus. My 12 year old daughter and I immediately fell in love with baby Groot, his dancing moves and his ability to put his friends first.
I put Baby Basil Groot on the windowsill, above my kitchen sink, next to the “Choose Happy” wooden sign, a driftwood candle and a small glass bluebird. My track record for keeping herbs alive is pretty low. Like zero low. I have never kept an herb alive for more than a week in my home. But I vowed this time to not kill the basil that I had planted in Groot’s head.
And so far, so good.
Baby Basil Groot has taught me a very important and difficult lesson over the last week. Plants are like teenagers. My desire to hydrate the basil every time I look at it is nearly outmatched by my desire to constantly check in with my daughter. I crave those lazy days of us all snuggled up together on the couch, watching movies in our PJs. She is getting older and requires less from me. The more I ask, the less she talks.
The more you feed basil, the less it grows. Overwatered basil will show signs of wilting, the leaves could become brown or yellow and drop off, and their stems could darken. They could even get blisters or bumps if they get too much H2O. Extreme heat can kill basil too. So can temperatures that are too cold.
Teenagers are that temperamental. Ask too many questions and they stop responding. Don’t pay attention enough and they start to crave it from you. Ask the wrong question and watch the disdain form on their faces. The party is over. Door shut. Done.
Maybe I bought Groot to connect with my the younger version of my daughter. The sweet little girl who thought I was funny and always grabbed my hand to dance along with a song in a movie. Maybe I bought Groot so I could be the cool mom for five seconds when I pulled it out of that brown box and lifted it up like Simba in “The Lion King,” just to hear maybe one or two “Oohs and aahs,” from my teenager. Or maybe I bought Groot so she would want to snuggle up with me again on the couch.
The reality is that I think Baby Basil Groot is a constant reminder that what I really need to provide for my teen is not only love, sunlight and nourishment, but space. A whole lot of space. Space to grow and to learn about the world as it grows and changes around her. Space to make mistakes and learn from those mistakes. Space to make decisions for herself and trust that those are the right decisions. And if they’re the wrong ones, that’s OK too.
I check on the basil every morning, feel its soil and say some kind words just like I do with my teenager. It’s been growing, slow and steady. One day, it will outgrow Groot’s head, and I will have to be OK with it living in another pot, a bigger pot. But for now, I get to watch it from afar and feed it when it needs it and hope that I’m giving it enough space to grow.
January 15, 2022