Boundaries, in general, are a good thing. Biologically speaking, the boundary created by our skin keeps us from desiccating and the cell membrane helps to define the cell from the rest of the world. Boundaries help to define, protect, and limit. On the other side of the coin, boundaries can also keep unwanted materials in, reinforce unsubstantiated differences, and restrict.
Boundaries can also be restrictions and limits on behavior. In this context as well, boundaries can be good or bad. Boundaries help to define acceptable and unacceptable behavior, help ease communication by providing certain circumscriptions or limit definitions and ideas, and allow a measure of decency or prevent honest expression of thoughts and ideas.
As an adult, I both respect boundaries and challenge them- depending on which boundary is being discussed. I think we tend to put up too many boundaries as a society, but they do serve a purpose and some boundaries make maintaining a society possible. As the saying goes, "Your right to swing your fist stops where my nose begins." Ignoring important boundaries could lead to a lot of noses out of joint, not to mention state sanctioned religion, hazardous materials going unchecked, exploitation, and abuse of power. A stupid person blindly accepts all boundaries and an arrogant person ignores all boundaries. I don't want to be either.
This makes parenting difficult. How can I teach a four year old about boundaries by example? I can't impose boundaries expecting Ken to obey them without question, but I can't teach him that all boundaries are pointless either. There is no easy approach. And unfortunately, he's caught on to my ambiguity around boundaries, and tries out this new knowledge by imposing his own boundaries and testing mine. Which leads to some very long days recently. I've said it before, and I'll say it again- I love my son, even if he is high maintenance. I just have to remind myself that the traits he's exhibiting are traits that I admire in adults and they should be fostered. Possibly the hardest thing about parenting that no one ever told me is the difficulty in reinforcing positive adult traits in a child.
"Patriotism is supporting your country always, and your government when it deserves support." ~Mark Twain.
Showing posts with label Growth. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Growth. Show all posts
Friday, May 21, 2010
Thursday, January 7, 2010
Plane at Four
I'm blogging on the road, having left the house at some now distant ungodly hour Tuesday morning to leave on a jet plane for Sarasota, Florida. With plenty of fresh powder on the ground. Less than two weeks after the botched terrorist attempt by a man from Nigeria. With a four year old. In a plane filled with 100-watt perfume users. To arrive in Florida at one of the coldest cold snaps in a while. Oh my, what fun in store!
This left me with the conundrum of what to write. Do I cover the society/ethics questions raised by the logistical aspects of our flight, or the more philosophical pondering of parenthood on the road? For this one, I'm picking the parenting plot, because I need my blood pressure to come down a bit before I write on privacy and security. As a clarification before this thought train leaves the depot, when I refer to parent, I mean any person who cares for a child in the place of a parent, be there a biological connection or not. Adoptive parents, parents via surrogacy, step parents living with children, foster parents, family members raising children- you're all equal in my eyes in that you have all chosen to take on the task of caring for a child twenty-four hours out of every day, for an extended period of time. It is this day-to-day care and supervision that makes a child, not a biological connection. I'll leave dealing with the biological connection for another time.
One of the things I love and hate about parenting is the learning opportunities it affords Dwight and I. Admittedly, I love the chance to broaden my knowledge, I hate the constant questions that prompt this learning. Ken is very inquisitive, as are most four year old kids. That's great, and I wish more adults had this characteristic still residing within them. He's also very intelligent (I may be biased, but I've also been told this by many non-biased sources, so I feel safe in repeating the delusion here)- but not able to read yet. There goes the ready answer of "why don't you go to the library and find out" that I remember my father firing off to questions which he found uninteresting and for which he didn't have a good answer. We'll get there eventually, and I'm confident that this response for Ken will foster a similar love of the library that it fostered in me (enough to encourage me to volunteer at our local library from a young age, and then work at the library for my first job, by the way).
For now, however, this lack of literacy means that I get to be the one to find the answers to Ken's questions and relay them to him in a language he can understand. And repeat the process ad nauseum for each of the million questions that arise from the first answer. Really, I've learned about some great topics from culinary history to engineering thanks to this practice, but I've also lost countless hours of work/sleep/play time, brain cells, and much of my sanity in the process as well.
This isn't the only task that I had never thought that I'd have to take on as a mother. In fact, I will be the first to admit that there was much in my life now that I hadn't envisioned as part and parcel with parenting, and I have no doubt that more roles will pop up as we age as a family. I've had to become an advocate for my child with extended family and non-family that don't share Dwight and my ideologies and philosophies. I'm an interpreter between my child and others who don't quite speak Kennish. I'm social planner, organizer, family historian, photographer, document keeper, therapist, taxi, macaroni and cheese gourmand, negotiator, movie/music/TV/radio screener, and occasional wrestler and safety net. And that's in a good week.
Maybe I was just hideously unprepared beforehand, although I like to think not. I read the books. I went to parenting classes. I took developmental psychology, albeit for my psychology BS, not in direct preparation for parenting. There was even a time in which I thought I would condemn myself to early childhood education, so I had a few education classes as well.
My point in all this is two-fold. First, there's no such thing as "prepared" to be a parent, it doesn't happen. One can be more or less prepared, but like the loss of a parent, gaining a child is not something you can ever be truly prepared for. This fact, added to the statistic that currently half of US pregnancies are unplanned, and parenthood as one of the most important roles a person can take on, scares the bejeezus out of me. It also reminds me that I should have stuck with psychology for my career, because the need for trained therapists is very clear.
Secondly, to all the people out there who have not yet had the task of raising the next generation, please try to be a little more understanding of children and parents. Everyone who is now a parent has at one time been not a parent; we understand the draw to remain childless, and on some days really, really wish we could go back to those days. I appreciate the opinion of those who choose not to have children, and applaud your ability to recognize your own limitations and priorities. I'm not saying that the world should stop for children, but you were a child once as well, and children are most definitely human, so please don't act as though they are worse than plaque infested rats. Yes, they can be an annoyance; yes, they can be vaguely disgusting; yes, they can be rude, but you don't need to ostracize parents or act as though the world is ending because there's a tantrum going on across the room. If the parents are trying to handle it, then let them, don't add to their stress. We all deserve a little compassion in this life, and the next generation deserves the opportunity to learn and grow, just as you were given once. If nothing else, consider yourself helping the future by modeling patience and compassion instead of distaste and condemnation. Is that acceptable?
This left me with the conundrum of what to write. Do I cover the society/ethics questions raised by the logistical aspects of our flight, or the more philosophical pondering of parenthood on the road? For this one, I'm picking the parenting plot, because I need my blood pressure to come down a bit before I write on privacy and security. As a clarification before this thought train leaves the depot, when I refer to parent, I mean any person who cares for a child in the place of a parent, be there a biological connection or not. Adoptive parents, parents via surrogacy, step parents living with children, foster parents, family members raising children- you're all equal in my eyes in that you have all chosen to take on the task of caring for a child twenty-four hours out of every day, for an extended period of time. It is this day-to-day care and supervision that makes a child, not a biological connection. I'll leave dealing with the biological connection for another time.
One of the things I love and hate about parenting is the learning opportunities it affords Dwight and I. Admittedly, I love the chance to broaden my knowledge, I hate the constant questions that prompt this learning. Ken is very inquisitive, as are most four year old kids. That's great, and I wish more adults had this characteristic still residing within them. He's also very intelligent (I may be biased, but I've also been told this by many non-biased sources, so I feel safe in repeating the delusion here)- but not able to read yet. There goes the ready answer of "why don't you go to the library and find out" that I remember my father firing off to questions which he found uninteresting and for which he didn't have a good answer. We'll get there eventually, and I'm confident that this response for Ken will foster a similar love of the library that it fostered in me (enough to encourage me to volunteer at our local library from a young age, and then work at the library for my first job, by the way).
For now, however, this lack of literacy means that I get to be the one to find the answers to Ken's questions and relay them to him in a language he can understand. And repeat the process ad nauseum for each of the million questions that arise from the first answer. Really, I've learned about some great topics from culinary history to engineering thanks to this practice, but I've also lost countless hours of work/sleep/play time, brain cells, and much of my sanity in the process as well.
This isn't the only task that I had never thought that I'd have to take on as a mother. In fact, I will be the first to admit that there was much in my life now that I hadn't envisioned as part and parcel with parenting, and I have no doubt that more roles will pop up as we age as a family. I've had to become an advocate for my child with extended family and non-family that don't share Dwight and my ideologies and philosophies. I'm an interpreter between my child and others who don't quite speak Kennish. I'm social planner, organizer, family historian, photographer, document keeper, therapist, taxi, macaroni and cheese gourmand, negotiator, movie/music/TV/radio screener, and occasional wrestler and safety net. And that's in a good week.
Maybe I was just hideously unprepared beforehand, although I like to think not. I read the books. I went to parenting classes. I took developmental psychology, albeit for my psychology BS, not in direct preparation for parenting. There was even a time in which I thought I would condemn myself to early childhood education, so I had a few education classes as well.
My point in all this is two-fold. First, there's no such thing as "prepared" to be a parent, it doesn't happen. One can be more or less prepared, but like the loss of a parent, gaining a child is not something you can ever be truly prepared for. This fact, added to the statistic that currently half of US pregnancies are unplanned, and parenthood as one of the most important roles a person can take on, scares the bejeezus out of me. It also reminds me that I should have stuck with psychology for my career, because the need for trained therapists is very clear.
Secondly, to all the people out there who have not yet had the task of raising the next generation, please try to be a little more understanding of children and parents. Everyone who is now a parent has at one time been not a parent; we understand the draw to remain childless, and on some days really, really wish we could go back to those days. I appreciate the opinion of those who choose not to have children, and applaud your ability to recognize your own limitations and priorities. I'm not saying that the world should stop for children, but you were a child once as well, and children are most definitely human, so please don't act as though they are worse than plaque infested rats. Yes, they can be an annoyance; yes, they can be vaguely disgusting; yes, they can be rude, but you don't need to ostracize parents or act as though the world is ending because there's a tantrum going on across the room. If the parents are trying to handle it, then let them, don't add to their stress. We all deserve a little compassion in this life, and the next generation deserves the opportunity to learn and grow, just as you were given once. If nothing else, consider yourself helping the future by modeling patience and compassion instead of distaste and condemnation. Is that acceptable?
Sunday, September 27, 2009
Changes
Nobody knows what we're really here for
Let's take it out hard till they show us the door
It's us against them tonight
- Bruce Hornsby, The Changes
- Bruce Hornsby, The Changes
This is one song that has been bouncing around in my head lately. Bruce Hornsby has been comforting music for me since I was young. Dad listened to his music, and after Dad died, his music really spoke to me, as did Bruce Hornsby. It's not many a celebrity that will correspond with high school girls in hand written form, and even fewer that will carry on full conversations with them, over multiple letters. Yes, this was before the prominence of the internet and email, and part of me longs for those days. There was more dialogue, and less one side discussion. I understand the irony of that statement on a blog, which next to commenting on news articles and the like may be one of the most common one-sided discussion formats currently available.
Autumn is here, and it's a season of changes. I feel those changes creeping in. The days are colder, the nights are longer, life in general is winding down and battening hatched for the winter ahead. I have my seasonal need to stock up and prepare; I think it's the prominence of the Black Squirrel in our town that highlights this need for me. Change is in the air.
At the same time, life aims at homeostasis. Homeostasis is the ability to maintain an internal equilibrium. Our bodies hold a consistent temperature, as adults we tend to maintain a certain amount of mass, our fluid levels try to stay near one point. All of this maintenance does not rule out change, in fact it requires change, it's a dynamic equilibrium. There is constant change that helps maintain homeostasis in the face of a changing environment. While it is equilibrium that is the driving force, it is the dynamic that keep us alive. And I feel that acutely right now.
The end result may be what keeps us trying, but it's the journey that really helps us to move ahead. An end is really just the carrot in front of our nose, right out of reach, that makes our run continue. When we meet one endpoint, we find a new one. When one goal is met, we move on to a bigger or different goal.
As a society, we try to maintain equilibrium as well, sometimes too much. If an equilibrium is too static, stagnation and disorder occur, because we're ignoring our changing environment or not adjusting to the new conditions. Whether it's a systemic infection because our body doesn't recognize an invader, or archaic laws and traditions that lead to internal strife and revolution, stagnation is detrimental. So there are those of us that fight for the changes that need to be made, even if inertia is against us. It's the fight that keeps us going, and when this fight is done, we'll find the next one. That fight might change drastically from the first, or be the next step, but it's a fight for equality none the less. Repeat the refrain.
Autumn isn't so much a season of endings, as a change in gears. A refocusing on the internal instead of the external. And so I now look forward to focusing inward, in preparation for some rest while the world continues outside, to emerge in the spring renewed and more able to focus outward. Can we as a society do the same?
Autumn is here, and it's a season of changes. I feel those changes creeping in. The days are colder, the nights are longer, life in general is winding down and battening hatched for the winter ahead. I have my seasonal need to stock up and prepare; I think it's the prominence of the Black Squirrel in our town that highlights this need for me. Change is in the air.
At the same time, life aims at homeostasis. Homeostasis is the ability to maintain an internal equilibrium. Our bodies hold a consistent temperature, as adults we tend to maintain a certain amount of mass, our fluid levels try to stay near one point. All of this maintenance does not rule out change, in fact it requires change, it's a dynamic equilibrium. There is constant change that helps maintain homeostasis in the face of a changing environment. While it is equilibrium that is the driving force, it is the dynamic that keep us alive. And I feel that acutely right now.
The end result may be what keeps us trying, but it's the journey that really helps us to move ahead. An end is really just the carrot in front of our nose, right out of reach, that makes our run continue. When we meet one endpoint, we find a new one. When one goal is met, we move on to a bigger or different goal.
As a society, we try to maintain equilibrium as well, sometimes too much. If an equilibrium is too static, stagnation and disorder occur, because we're ignoring our changing environment or not adjusting to the new conditions. Whether it's a systemic infection because our body doesn't recognize an invader, or archaic laws and traditions that lead to internal strife and revolution, stagnation is detrimental. So there are those of us that fight for the changes that need to be made, even if inertia is against us. It's the fight that keeps us going, and when this fight is done, we'll find the next one. That fight might change drastically from the first, or be the next step, but it's a fight for equality none the less. Repeat the refrain.
Autumn isn't so much a season of endings, as a change in gears. A refocusing on the internal instead of the external. And so I now look forward to focusing inward, in preparation for some rest while the world continues outside, to emerge in the spring renewed and more able to focus outward. Can we as a society do the same?
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
Bandwagon jumping
Normally, I don't understand sports and avoid them at all costs, but I make exceptions for Frank Deford, as I did today. He's a sports columnist, so what on earth would he have to say that would interest me? Well, he was talking about a theme that seems to be in the ethos lately- the disappearance of August. Don't worry, you don't have to go check your calendar, August is still scheduled for the 31 days between July 31st and September 1st. But it's changed. Drastically. I remember August fondly. It was a fond time. Time for bike-riding, swimming, climbing trees, reading, stomping in puddles made by the frenzied flash thunder storms that whipped up in August. All the things that wouldn't be able to be done in September, once school started. But those days are gone. Now I work in August. Everyone works in August. It's time to frantically prepare, wrap up, finish last minute tasks, and review the plan for the fall term. The pace has changed. The feel has changed. Even the taste of August has changed with the odd timing of vegetable crops this year. The sound has changed with the odd weather and its repurcussions for frog and insect calling. And the storms aren't the same either. They're not as passionate, violent, quick, rejuvenating, and so apologetic afterwards. Frank Deford's words were spot on. And I'm adding my voice to those who miss August.
Monday, August 3, 2009
My first award!
So, I got my first blog award. Still sorting out my feelings on the matter. Honored, of course. But who to pick? To what blogs do I pass this distinction? Hmmm- newly discovered. How new is new?
Well, here goes! First, a big thanks to Kelli, this really made my day.
The rules of the "One Lovely Blog Award" are:
Accept the award, post it on your blog together with the name of the person who has granted the award, and his or her blog link.
Pass the award to 15 other blogs that you’ve newly discovered.
Remember to contact the bloggers to let them know they have been chosen for this award.
Here are a few new blogs I discovered. Check them out, they're lovely!
1. Garfman
2. Meg
3. Robyn
4. Emily
5. Dave
6. Rachel
7. Pamela Jeanne
8. Irish Girl
9. Old Mill (Just admire the pictures)
10. Sprout
11. Farmer Jake
12. Chadwick
13. Kelly
14. Epicurean Athlete
15. Judy
To the observant sleuth, there's an Easter egg in that bunch. Can you find it?
Well, here goes! First, a big thanks to Kelli, this really made my day.
The rules of the "One Lovely Blog Award" are:
Accept the award, post it on your blog together with the name of the person who has granted the award, and his or her blog link.
Pass the award to 15 other blogs that you’ve newly discovered.
Remember to contact the bloggers to let them know they have been chosen for this award.
Here are a few new blogs I discovered. Check them out, they're lovely!
1. Garfman
2. Meg
3. Robyn
4. Emily
5. Dave
6. Rachel
7. Pamela Jeanne
8. Irish Girl
9. Old Mill (Just admire the pictures)
10. Sprout
11. Farmer Jake
12. Chadwick
13. Kelly
14. Epicurean Athlete
15. Judy
To the observant sleuth, there's an Easter egg in that bunch. Can you find it?
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
Happy Birthday.
It's been a year. Today, at 9:52. I think? A couple of friends reminded me that it was today. A year ago today I gave birth to a little girl. I was a surrogate for two men. They might have been called friends once I think.
I'm not sure what to think, really. I'm not sad. I'm not overly happy. It's a fact that just is. That family is a year old now. I hope they're happy and healthy, and that she's starting to do one year old things. Maybe standing, or walking. Maybe making word-sounds.
It all seems so strange and distant. Another life. Perhaps something I read in a book somewhere. Oh, well. C'est la vie, yes?
Happy Birthday JAM.
I'm not sure what to think, really. I'm not sad. I'm not overly happy. It's a fact that just is. That family is a year old now. I hope they're happy and healthy, and that she's starting to do one year old things. Maybe standing, or walking. Maybe making word-sounds.
It all seems so strange and distant. Another life. Perhaps something I read in a book somewhere. Oh, well. C'est la vie, yes?
Happy Birthday JAM.
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
Getting back to challenges
My May challenge went well enough, but then I fell behind in June. I had challenges enough without trying to force myself to artificial challenges like only patronizing local stores. Not that I don't like challenges; the only way to grow is to push yourself. And try not to break. Or to push back against the challenge. Human being are amazingly malleable creatures, but if we try to stretch ourselves too thin, or past our limits, we can loose all the momentum we had created and the shape for which we are trying is lost. We have to push slowly, consistently, making small but incremental progress. Granted there are times when a mold has to be broken in quick, forceful effort, but those are the exception not the rule.
Becoming a mama and entering grad school have both necessitated some strenuous pushing of limits. I don't think I've ever broken, but I'd be surprised if none of the elastin has not suffered permanent damage. I guess that's just a part of aging, isn't it?
Please don't get me wrong; I love the challenges I've faced. They've made me who I am. An intelligent, strong, persistent, compassionate and driven womyn, wife, mother, daughter, researcher, friend and teacher. I wear the marks and scars of those challenges with pride. And I have chosen to add some parts of my story myself, in the form of tattoos marking the big pieces of the puzzle that is me.
And without further ado, the challenge for July is to write- a minimum of an hour a day. Any topic, any form, any method- just write. Maybe this way I'll finish that dang manuscript I need to do.
Becoming a mama and entering grad school have both necessitated some strenuous pushing of limits. I don't think I've ever broken, but I'd be surprised if none of the elastin has not suffered permanent damage. I guess that's just a part of aging, isn't it?
Please don't get me wrong; I love the challenges I've faced. They've made me who I am. An intelligent, strong, persistent, compassionate and driven womyn, wife, mother, daughter, researcher, friend and teacher. I wear the marks and scars of those challenges with pride. And I have chosen to add some parts of my story myself, in the form of tattoos marking the big pieces of the puzzle that is me.
And without further ado, the challenge for July is to write- a minimum of an hour a day. Any topic, any form, any method- just write. Maybe this way I'll finish that dang manuscript I need to do.
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
Melissas, Melindas, and all other sweet names
Yep, it's finally bee day! Here's some future honey components.
One of our workers.
One of our workers.
Greeting old friends at the new house.
Renovations at the old place- hope the owner doesn't mind.
And Home Sweet Home!
I haven't put the whole thing back together at this point, but it's almost there. Letting the gals calm down and get aquainted. The upside down jar is a feeder, just to make sure they have plenty of food to recover safely from the move. Yeah! I'm so excited! So many fun things are happening!
Monday, June 8, 2009
2009 Regula Meyer Garden- A field guide
No pictures yet- I'm OK with being lazy- and they won't be helpful when they are up. :-)
This is meant to be a less-helpful, more limited version of Peterson's. For garden plants. This is not intended to be an extensive volume, or decisive, but it should be able to tell you whether to pull or to keep a plant in your garden. Whether to eat, if something is edible- that's a whole other story. Hopefully, if you can key it out to something worth saving with this guide, it should at least be non-toxic, but I can't vouch for what you've been planting.
Sturdy stem, vaguely heart shaped leaves that are soon clipped off by wild life, to likely wither and die- The beans and peas that you were counting on for salads. Don't pull.
Broad leaves emerging from the soil with little to no stem, can be quite colorful and also prized by wild life- Those salad greens that you wanted for with the beans and peas. Don't pull.
Very common plant, reddish stem, two very long thin cotyledons- The universe's way of telling you that you should be in silviculture, not agriculture. Tree seedlings from the nearest prolific tree. Eat if you dare. Pull. Then cut down the source of the seeds in spite.
Fairly common plant, grown in sort of row-ish configuration- Don't pull. But a warning- this one will be the prime target of husbands and children trying to be helpful, so don't expect it to last.
Long thin leaves emerging from the ground with no stem- Grass. If it's a stiff leaf, with a prominent midrib, probably barn sedge. Pull. Not that it will do any good.
Oblong, circular or arrowhead shaped leaves on a petiole that emerges from the ground in small bunches- Spinach or plaintain (not the banana like one). Don't pull. But good luck trying to get your kid to eat it.
Random rocks, candy, and toys- You're in the Land of Oz. That section of garden that you let the kid(s) plant, in an attempt to get them interested. Back away, slowly. None of it will grow, and if you try to pick up the mess, there'll be h3ll to pay. Hey, don't we all wish growing your own candy were that simple?
Common plant, grown in rows, still has the tops intact- Don't pull, but know that the bugs are coming. Start trying to find alternative ways to keep bugs off plants now. Because I know you're growing an organic garden, right?
Long straight stem with leaves wrapped tightly around the stem, occurs sporadically in one specific area- The corn that the squirrels managed to not find and dig up. For the third time. Don't pull.
Delicate, almost fern-like leaf on a long petiole- Carrot, dill, or other probably edible. Don't pull.
For any other questions on plant identification, let them grow until you can identify them. You might get some veggies out of the deal, and at least you garden looks a little greener.
This is meant to be a less-helpful, more limited version of Peterson's. For garden plants. This is not intended to be an extensive volume, or decisive, but it should be able to tell you whether to pull or to keep a plant in your garden. Whether to eat, if something is edible- that's a whole other story. Hopefully, if you can key it out to something worth saving with this guide, it should at least be non-toxic, but I can't vouch for what you've been planting.
Sturdy stem, vaguely heart shaped leaves that are soon clipped off by wild life, to likely wither and die- The beans and peas that you were counting on for salads. Don't pull.
Broad leaves emerging from the soil with little to no stem, can be quite colorful and also prized by wild life- Those salad greens that you wanted for with the beans and peas. Don't pull.
Very common plant, reddish stem, two very long thin cotyledons- The universe's way of telling you that you should be in silviculture, not agriculture. Tree seedlings from the nearest prolific tree. Eat if you dare. Pull. Then cut down the source of the seeds in spite.
Fairly common plant, grown in sort of row-ish configuration- Don't pull. But a warning- this one will be the prime target of husbands and children trying to be helpful, so don't expect it to last.
Long thin leaves emerging from the ground with no stem- Grass. If it's a stiff leaf, with a prominent midrib, probably barn sedge. Pull. Not that it will do any good.
Oblong, circular or arrowhead shaped leaves on a petiole that emerges from the ground in small bunches- Spinach or plaintain (not the banana like one). Don't pull. But good luck trying to get your kid to eat it.
Random rocks, candy, and toys- You're in the Land of Oz. That section of garden that you let the kid(s) plant, in an attempt to get them interested. Back away, slowly. None of it will grow, and if you try to pick up the mess, there'll be h3ll to pay. Hey, don't we all wish growing your own candy were that simple?
Common plant, grown in rows, still has the tops intact- Don't pull, but know that the bugs are coming. Start trying to find alternative ways to keep bugs off plants now. Because I know you're growing an organic garden, right?
Long straight stem with leaves wrapped tightly around the stem, occurs sporadically in one specific area- The corn that the squirrels managed to not find and dig up. For the third time. Don't pull.
Delicate, almost fern-like leaf on a long petiole- Carrot, dill, or other probably edible. Don't pull.
For any other questions on plant identification, let them grow until you can identify them. You might get some veggies out of the deal, and at least you garden looks a little greener.
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