In the garden of rambling thoughts

Every spring, I set out to have a beautiful garden. One without weeds, flowers rotating at the perfect time, always fresh and in bloom. The type of garden that stops people on their evening dog walks and makes them say, “Wow! What a beautiful place”. I set out that way. And it last for a week, two tops. In short, stuff happens, and by mid-July we look like the Munsters. Again. I have all the makings and skills for that perfect garden, but what I lack in gumption. Whatever gumption is, I need some of that. By mid-July I’m so disappointed in myself and my lack-luster garden, that I want to mow the whole thing down and plant grass, but I know that I won’t water it, so it would just be a giant bare patch in the front yard.

This morning I stood in the front yard, looking at the overgrown patch, with Asher in my arms and Nina running all over the place – sighing. It will take hours, no make that days, to clean the mess out. I don’t think that I have it in me to do that. I don’t think I care enough at this point to even bother. And it’s hot out here. And there are bugs. And is that thing even a plant or some sort of hybrid weed? And isn’t there a water shortage? Somewhere?

Both my mom and mother-in-law have beautiful gardens. All sorts of flowers and plants that grow and make sense. Both women walk me around their garden saying, "Look at my so-and-so plant. Isn't it just gorgeous". Sure. I guess. Honestly, unless you stop right in front of it, point it out and make me touch it, then I have no idea what you're talking about. They might as well have a blue-footed boobie walking though the yard because all I can see is a 3 foot chubby toddler running toward whatever he's not suppose-to be near, and his sister performing some sort of acrobatic feat because my back it turned for 2 seconds. They're lucky that I was paying attention long enough to hear what they said. I think it's because their children are grown and gone, that their gardens are so beautiful. They have the time to nurture and care for them.

I'm growing children. The flowers are lucky to even be alive.