Running a Silkworm Factory and “Other” Motherly Duties

by Tracy Levine - January 5, 2004
(This article is one of a series by Tracy Levine on health, families and education)

Let me show you some of the knickknacks on the bookcase in our living room…this lovely candle garden was a gift from a student of mine; this beautiful Murano-glass vase is a memento from Italy when my husband proposed to me in  Venice. Oh, and this, is Slimy, my son’s water snail. And, this is Joshua’s silkworm habitat—quite quaint how it resembles a miniature China town, don’t you think? Rather eclectic additions to the décor…WHAT? You don’t have live biological specimens in your living room?

          I’m continually amazed by the range of duties that fall under “other” on a mother’s job description. Since we’re just finishing our Christmas holidays, I’ll share one of my “others” with you. It was a Christmas gift that was a little more than I’d bargained for…

          “Mom!” There’s a box at the door and the label says ‘live animals’!”

Eight-year-old Joshua looked at me expectantly. He was literally jumping up and down with excitement. I, on the other hand, sighed with exasperation when I read the label: Insect Lore.

          I thought I’d been so clever to order a silkworm kit for our little scientist. The plan was to set up the habitat under the Christmas tree. Joshua could then mail the certificate for the live specimens. Apparently, there had been a miscommunication—and Insect Lore had gone ahead and shipped the creatures. How efficient of them.

          On Friday afternoons--after spending the week working as a Montessori teacher to four and five year-olds, driving an average of two hours a day back and forth to our schools,  managing various after-school activities, and spending every free moment on my writing projects--I’m officially FRIED. All I want to do is put on my sweats, brew a cup of tea and crawl into bed with a book.

Now, I had to deal with SILKWORMS?

          I did gain a slight energy infusion when I witnessed Joshua’s excitement

upon opening the box.

          “It’s an early Christmas present,” I explained.

           He took one look at the container of four wiggly white things and instantly knew what they were. “Silkworms! Awesome! Thanks, Mom!”

          He held up a container filled with strange-looking green powder.

“What’s this, Mom?”

          I grabbed The Silkworm Handbook and skimmed it. Although I felt the stirrings of a migraine, I had to laugh out loud. Here it was Friday, when we always ordered pizza so I wouldn’t have to make dinner and could veg, and now I was going to be cooking after all…for bugs!

          “Josh, apparently, our new pets are picky eaters. They only eat this  Mulberry leaf powder, which has to be mixed with boiling water.”

          I hunted for a double boiler and realized I didn’t own one. Too bad I hadn’t been able to look into the future. I could have accounted for one in my bridal registry…double boiler (one) - for cooking future son’s silkworm’s mulberry leaf gruel…I’d be all set! As it was, I had to stand at the stove for twenty minutes, perpetually stirring a mixture that brought back macabre memories of certain types of diaper changes; trying not to gag on the vile stench.

          Joshua and I learned a lot about silkworms—probably more than I really needed to know. He, of course, took great delight in informing his teenage sister that her prized silk kimono was actually made out of “worm drool.” And, since he’s in love with numbers, he was captivated by the statistics of the project.

          “Mom, if we have one male and one female and they mate, guess how many eggs they’ll have—500! And, then if there are two females and two males…”

          Even I could multiply that high. And, what was I to do with 500, or 1000 eggs, let alone that many worms--caterpillars, or whatever they were?

          When I tried to deter him by suggesting we separate the moths, he became very indignant.

          “The silkworms go through all that work, then they’re only moths for five days and then they DIE! The book says all they want to do in their short lives is mate. I want them to mate.”

          Joshua may have romanticized the plight of the silkworm moth, but his intentions were pure. What could I say to that? We’re still waiting to see how this particular venture turns out!

          I’ve always tried to respect and nurture my son’s interests, no matter how unusual, which is why we tend to have some type of project or experiment going on in our house virtually at all times. I learned early on not to throw anything out without checking with him first. An innocent plastic container could hold the beginnings of a pink quartz crystal, tiny ladybug eggs, or some intriguing chemical concoction.

          When he was six, I remember being mystified by the vanishing inventory of my spices until I came upon him one day, a would-be mad scientist comparing the dissolution rates of various spices in olive oil, water and vinegar!

          Then there was the Rock Polisher he had to have for Christmas. Did you know that the process takes almost a month? Neither did we. Although we set up the machine in our garage, the obnoxious grinding sounds were enough to cause TMJ attacks in everyone within a half mile radius. It didn’t endear us to our neighbors…“What in the x#*@ are you doing in your garage?”

          Of course, everything I do is out of love and respect for this beautiful child God entrusted to us. Joshua is such an indescribable joy! Like most moms, I connected with him very early. I talked to him in utero and could swear I sensed him listening. I was overwhelmed with love. And, when I saw him for the first time, I was in awe. Such a sweet face and he was staring straight at me!

          From the beginning, we were inseparable. He took to breastfeeding like a little love leech. We moved from Orlando to Palm Desert when he was only three months old and he nursed the entire plane trip. I sat there, a totally unselfconscious, proud mama, confronting those judgmental eyes peering at me over Wallstreet Journals; my nursing shirt and Delta blanket discreetly concealing the vital body parts. Of course, the loud sucking sounds and kicking-with- pleasure-feet, left no doubt as to the three-hour feeding that was occurring!

Well, at least his ears didn’t hurt him.

          And when Joshua wasn’t nursing, he still liked to be attached. I even did housework and made meals with him in his snugli.

          As Joshua’s mother, I love to help him make new discoveries. It’s fun to think about what he might be some day…an aerospace engineer? An inventor? An architect? A legend on WallStreet? A priest? He is smart, has a big heart, and is very inquisitive. He can be anything he wants to be and I’m thrilled to help him along in that process.  

          But, it’s not a “one-way street.” Joshua gives so much to me! He offers unconditional and infinite love. He’s intuitive and senses when I’m not feeling well or something’s bothering me. He’ll come over and rub my neck or give me a hug and say: “Mommy, what’s wrong?”

          We’re big snugglers from way back. He still demands snuggles at bedtime and I crave it just as much as he does. When I need a hug, I tell him: “My love tank is low,” and he rushes over to shower me with hugs and kisses. I dread the day when he decides he’s too mature to display his affection!

          I love the simplicity and purity of his faith. I recall with tenderness his fourth Christmas. We were snuggling at bedtime on Christmas night:

          “Joshua, my best Christmas gift was seeing your joy when you opened your presents.”

          He looked at me like I was crazy and shook his head. “Mommy, you’re so silly! Your best Christmas present is…Jesus!”

          There’s also a lighter side to Joshua. He’s got a great sense of humor and is always telling jokes and entertaining us. He’s got the line on sarcasm too.

His sister’s room and closet are legendary and I don’t mean that in a good way.

          One day she bribed him into helping her look for something. He came limping down the stairs, a battle-weary look on his face. His voice caught as he told his story: “Mom. It was so scary! I can’t even tell you about it, except for…” (Dramatic pause). “…I was slimed!”

          I love to see the way his mind works and through his tuned-up curiosity, I learn a lot too. Every day he asks questions I can hardly understand, let alone answer. I make it a practice to not say: “I don’t know,” but instead: “Let’s find out!”

          Of course, this is good for me, because as reports have finally proven,   older brains can grow new brain cells--every time we learn something new.

          Oh, you think you could answer this eight year-old’s questions? Try this list from one week:

• How do oysters have babies?
• Do snails have teethe?
• Did the snake in the Garden of Eden have legs in the beginning?
• Does your brain grow as you grow? How big are your brain cells? How does knowledge “fit” in them?
• Do chickens see in color?
• What came first-peanut butter or jelly? And who invented it?

          I respect and admire my son. He has maturity and sensitivity beyond his years. He has lots of friends, because they know they can trust him. He’s the Peacemaker.        

          I know he also respects and appreciates me. Sadly, in our world, gratitude has become a rare commodity, but Joshua never gives the impression that he takes anything for granted. Over Christmas, his teenage sister, who is currently living on the planet: “It’s all about me,” was complaining about how I had too much holiday spirit and was too much of a “mommy.” (Didn’t quite get that one.)

          Joshua turned around in wide-eyed panic. “Mom! Please don’t change anything about you. I like all the mommy things you do! And I love your Christmas spirit!”

          He raced over to body-hug me as if he was concerned his sister would wave a magic wand and transform me into the lackluster hands-off parent she desired at that moment.

          Although irritated at one child for her lack of appreciation (yet understanding it was a teen-thing), I was consumed with such love-filled validation by my son!

          I am blessed with a wonderful relationship with my son and eagerly anticipate more Joshua-inspired excitement in our house-even if it does involve hundreds of live wiggly creatures.