waiting to be butterflies

We took yet another trip to the zoo today. Since I have had kids it has really become one of my favorite places to visit. Especially in the warm weather. Come summer time all of the animals are more active. The kids get to see them in action which they absolutely love. And with the hot weather comes.... the butterfly atrium. The butterfly atrium is my favorite. So beautiful. Unique. And yet so fragile.

Before you enter the atrium a zoo attendant gives you the run down of do's and don'ts. Walk slowly. Be gentle. Use quiet voices. Don't try to pick up or touch the butterflies. If you want to hold one stand very still with your finger out and let them come to you. If one does land on you DO NOT SWAT IT OFF OR MAKE ANY SUDDEN MOVEMENTS, an attendant will come over to get off any unwanted butterflies.

I'm thinking. Yeah. Okay. Sure. All completely common sense. Who is going in a butterfly atrium and swatting butterflies away anyway?! Aidan. That's who. I have no idea what came over this child. We walked in the door ever so slowly and quietly. Seark ooohing and aaahing at every thing he saw... even the dead ones on the floor. Rylan wide eyes as I pushed his stroller through the door. Looking on in awe at their magnificent wings that he was really seeing for the very first time. And then it happened. A brilliantly painted blue butterfly landed so softly on Aidan's chest. His reaction is pretty much what I imagine would happen if... say.... a tarantula even landed on me. Forget swatting. Aidan was flailing, screaming, smacking, freaking out! The butterfly managed to escape unharmed. We were also escorted out of the butterfly atrium shortly after. On the way out there were dozens of branches with what looked like dried leaves on them. Seark stopped and asked what that mommia? I looked knowing I had seen something like it before. As I went tell him it was just a bunch of dead flowers I realized it was chrysalis. All lined up. Hundreds of chrysalis'. All just waiting to be butterflies.

All day I couldn't stop thinking about them. These little cocoons wrapped so tight. Each one holding something so precious. Fragile. Beautiful. So of course my peeked curiosity lead me to good old google. Where I learned that butterflies hatch with small, wet, wrinkled wings that are immediately unable to spread and fly. But with in hours they are ready to take flight. I also learned that no butterfly is known to live past one year. Very few make it beyond six months. Some only have the life expectancy of 10 days. Many not making it past the first 24 - 48 hours. Fragile. Short. Beautiful existence. Drinking sweet nectar. Sun bathing on petals delicate as their wings. And just like that they are gone. In the short time they are here they can lay over 500 hundred eggs. Of which only about 20 will survive the full life cycle and become a butterfly.

It seems like butterflies understand something we don't. Life is short. Be bold. Be beautiful. Bask in the warmth of the sun. Don't let wings too small keep you from flying. Find a means to make them work and take off. The sooner the better. As much as I hate getting older. And dreaded my 30's. For the first time in my life I feel like I get it. I feel more comfortable in my imperfect skin. Which makes me want to be bolder. Brighter.  Just live... more.... the way I see fit. I feel like being a mom gave me wings. They weren't the easiest to learn to use. But I am ready to take flight... with these boys... until they get a set of their own. Because I know just like the butterflies they are just waiting for their turn to be brilliant.