My mother is an avid gardener. So is my father. Together, they spend countless hours in their yard, planting and weeding, weeding and planting. They enjoy it. It’s something they take great pride in and they have a beautiful yard to show for it.

Me on other hand, I don’t love gardening so much. And a quick glance at my yard will prove it. My grass is brown, hard and crunchy. Some spots are green, but I don’t think it is grass growing there. If I had to hazard a guess as to what the green spots are, I would bet they’re weeds.

I have two gardens in my backyard, and except for a bone or two that Samson has buried beneath the dusty earth surface, they are empty.

Those gardens will remain flowerless because I can’t seem to figure out the complicated science of a watering schedule. I mean, you would think that if you forget to water your flowers for a whole entire month that you could just give them a bunch of water when you finally remember to make up for your carelessness, but apparently, plants can drown. Who knew?

My front yard has a few hedges, but they only exist because I have to expend zero effort to keep them alive. Mark even gives them their annual trim because I am much better at doing other important yard work. Like sitting. In a chair. With a cold drink in my hands.

Although I am self admitted failure when it comes to taking care of things that requires sunshine and photosynthesis to prosper, I sincerely hope that my gardening skills do not surpass my parenting skills because I have gestated my very own little weed that needs someone to nurture and care for him. And from what I hear, my perennial cutie will be a thorn in my backside for like, at least 18 years.

Unlike gardening however, nurturing my son brings me so much joy. I love watching our family build its roots.

Maybe one day when my nest is empty I’ll try my hand at gardening again, but for now, this little weed of mine keeps me busy enough.


Which is exactly why we’re keeping the fertilizer under wraps to keep the rest of the weeds at bay if you catch my drift.

Labels: All in the Family, Motherhood