Parenthood is often a very interesting object lesson in perspective. The memories we have of our own childhoods are quite often subverted and revisited through the lens of our children’s experience. Similarly, we gain insight, very often a great deal of sympathy, and (sadly) an occasional taste of bitterness for the way our parents must have felt. These effects are often amplified because we literally retrace our steps as children through many of the same places and activities we remember and cherish. I have had this go both ways — revisiting places that were integral parts of my childhood and re-discovering their magic through Charlotte’s wonder and amazement, and returning to places that I hadn’t seen in thirty-odd years only to be disappointed or saddened by how they changed (or how I had changed).

We’re heading down a trodden path right now that should be a good experience. A few weeks ago, Charlotte started talking to me one morning about wanting something she’d seen on a TV commercial. This isn’t a novel experience; I am often besieged with requests for Moon Sand, Kids Rock CDs, various breakfast cereals and/or sugary snacks and the occasional erectile dysfunction drug. It took me a couple of tries, though, to get what exactly she was going on about. Eventually I was able to parse out that she wanted to order a butterfly kit. You send away, get a half dozen caterpillars, watch them pupate, and, hopefully, hatch into butterflies. Ah, the miracles of nature! The Circle of Life! All for $29.95 plus shipping and handling!

If you have been reading this blog long enough — pretty much right back to the very beginning — you might remember that the year before Charlotte was born, in the spring of 2000, Bridget and I visited “The Butterfly Place” in Westford, MA, and I wrote an article about the place and about our experience with buying a butterfly kit there and having that little adventure of nature. I used to have the article posted on this site and took it down a long time ago, but I will re-post it and add a link in the comments for anyone who wants to read or re-read it. I even submitted the article to Yankee Magazine for a contest they were having, but it never appeared.

After I wrote the article, I signed up for a non-fiction writing class and used the class as my opportunity to edit the piece with feedback from a set of readers. The finished piece that you’ll be able to read is quite a bit different than the way I first wrote it. When I first showed it to the writing class, I was surprised and a bit mortified by the feedback. They all loved the story, but the comments were totally unexpected. People saw a longing for a child, a deep dissatisfaction with life, the whole idea of spring and renewal and birth played out through the proxy of the two caterpillars who one day simply flew away as butterflies. I immediately hacked away about half of the piece, threw in some standard expository stuff about the butterfly habitat, and did anything I could to get away from such an emotional response. I wanted to publish this in a tourist magazine, ferchrissake!

Now, from the shifted perspective of parenthood, I realize that they could see what I could not see myself. They were completely right. Only a couple of months later, we learned that Bridget was pregnant, even though her doctor had told her she was undergoing early menopause, and right around the anniversary of that visit from the butterflies, Charlotte was born.

There was only one catch I could see to ordering this butterfly kit. Charlotte is deathly afraid of bugs of any kind. In fact, we tried to take her to The Butterfly Place one rainy weekend when she was about four years old, and it was a total disaster. She walked into that giant room filled with hundreds of butterflies of all sorts of colors and sizes and proceeded to freak out on an epic scale. It was like her absolute worst nightmare turned all-too real. She would only stand on the periphery of the space, and would shriek instantly if a butterfly flew within 10 feet of her. Eventually, she and Bridget retreated to the exhibit room where the butterflies are kept inside glass containers while I snapped a few photos dejectedly, and then we made a hasty retreat.

Her insectophobia continues to this day and can be triggered by the tiniest gnat buzzing across a room or even a dark spot on the ceiling that looks like it *might* be a bug. But she was insistent about this kit. She’d even figured out her own rationalization; that by having the caterpillars and watching them, it would help her be less afraid of them. I soaked on that for a day or two and then we went online and ordered ourselves some caterpillars.

They arrived on Monday, just as we were beginning to wonder if we were going to get them or not. The box was waiting for us when we got home, warm in the late afternoon sun. So warm that I was a bit worried that the caterpillars might be crispy. They were awfully still when we removed the lidded cup that contained them. Five very tiny black lines surrounded by a haze of fine webbing. The instructions with the package assured me that the caterpillars would be rather immobile for a few hours and not to assume they were dead, so I decided to work under the same assumption. We placed the cup on the mantle in the family room to keep it out of direct sunlight and away from the attentions of the cats.

Yesterday afternoon we checked on them and, sure enough, the little creepies are alive. They literally doubled in size in the space of 24 hours, and now they were visibly mobile, though not incredibly active. The bottom of the cup has a pad soaked with a nutrient substance, so all they have to do is stand on the bottom of the cup and eat. Within the week, they should grow a bit more to their final size, then attach themselves to the underside of the cup lid and form cocoons. At that point, we’re supposed to gently move the lid to the nylon-net “butterfly house” that came with the kit and patiently wait another 7-10 days for them to emerge as Painted Lady butterflies.

When Bridget and I hatched our butterflies eight years ago, I would not have imagined hat we would be doing it again with our child. Even though we were on the very cusp of becoming parents, it wasn’t something I was expecting or wishing for…at least I didn’t think so then. Funny what you don’t see even when it’s right in front of you.

More photos to come as we see progress with our caterpillars.