No Flowers for Me

At the back of our deck, we have 2 flower beds built into the wall that holds up the hillside. For years I have planted flowers in those planters.  Impatients, to be exact.  Why impatients?  Not only do they thrive in the shade, which we have plenty of in the back yard, but because I have a habit of killing most other plants.

Every year the kids and I would go out to some flower store or another to chose our impatients.  The kids loved to come with me so they could pick out which colors we were going with that particular year.  Sadly, this year, I do not see such a trip in our future.  Why?  Because I have a son.  To be more exact, I have a son who loves to dig.

Last year we dedicated a spot on the side of the yard where he could dig to his heart's content.  I think he outgrew that spot.  Last fall I purchased a sandbox thinking he could dig and get dirty in there.  He still does, but it's not enough to feed his digging addiction.  I finally caved and let him have the smaller of the two flower beds.  Those three spots would definitely give him enough room to dig, right?

Wrong!

Little Dude has moved on to digging not only in both flower beds, but up into the hillside as well.

This Spring I have decided to let him dig in all of those spots.  Partly because I am tired of arguing with him over where to dig, but I've learned his digging also benefits me.

By digging up the flower beds, it saves me the trouble of planting flowers.  Yes flowers are pretty and I would love to have a pretty yard, but it's one less thing to add to my to-do list.  By letting him dig on the hillside I've learned that the weeds no longer grow where him and GG play.  This means less weed whacking for the husband and I to do.

From the time Little Dude wakes up in the morning until the sun begins to set, he is outside.  He is being creative when playing outside, he is learning cause and effect when he builds and digs, he is soaking up some sun and fresh air, and most important, he is not vegging out in front of the tv or a video game all day.  So even though I won't be able to plant flowers in our back yard for quite some time, I am very happy that Little Dude spends his time outside.

However, there is a downfall to all of his digging.  Our water bill is starting to sky rocket due to all the hand washing and bathing of one little boy.

Until next time...

Bumps and Berries

No one told me that 9 year old girls can be moodier than a woman 9 months pregnant and ready to pop. In retrospect, perhaps I should have picked up one of those Chicken Noodle Soup parenting books.

The past few days have been particularly trying. GG has been walking around with a holier than thou attitude, then reverts to a pouting 2 year old when she is told to do something for the 50th time, ie. putting her shoes on the shoe rack instead of in the middle of the floor.

Sunday night was a very rough night for both of us. It was one of those nights where I could hear the words loudly leaving my mouth and I knew in my head I did not like how I sounded. I vowed Monday would be a better day. We hit a few road bumps Monday, but overall things were smooth like butter. Until.....


GG has a strawberry plant. Her seeds we planted earlier in the summer didn't seem to take, so Little Dude and I bought her a new plant. We transferred it to a new pot and hoped for the best. Us girls kept a watchful eye on the strawberry plant. We'd smile at every berry as it began to turn red, only to be disappointed as each one would rot. A friend suggested the plant was not getting enough water, so we became vigilant about watering every night.

Soon the leaves doubled in size. Yet no flowers were t be seen. Until last week. We spotted 2 flowers with a tiny berry in the middle. I noticed one berry disappeared within a few days. I chalked t up to yet another berry rotting. But the second berry began to grow. As it grew, it also began to turn red.

Last night, GG wanted to finally pick her first berry. I told her to give the berry one more day to make sure it was fully red and ready to eat. Not even an hour later, Little Dude and I walked past her beloved strawberry plant as we were taking the garbage to the curb. The one and only berry was gone. It was not in the pot. It was not in the grass. It was not in the cracks of the sidewalk. Gone.

I can only assume a chipmunk, squirrel, or rabbit found itself a nice red snack. GG, who was finally emerging from her foul mood, was pushed back into her funk.

The good mom that I am, I turned to the Google for help. What I learned was the vines growing from her plant are called runners. On each runner are baby plants. These can be placed in pots so next year we have more than one plant. I also learned how to care for strawberry plants during the winter months, which can be brutal here.

I shared my findings with GG and I watched a smile finally cross her face. We were able to end the night on a good note, and that makes me very happy.

Now we just all need to pray that my thumb stays green long enough to yield some fresh strawberries in the Spring.



Until next time...