The Difference is that I Kill Plants

Gardening. It sounds like a bad word. Dirt and weeding and watering and caring. I just can’t do it when I get a plant. I always feel bad when people give me potted plants because I know deep down that they will be dead in a few days.

So naturally, I am happy that we have raised kids this long. I’m glad I grew them in my enormous stomach and now I am responsible for watering, feeding and caring for this tiny person. I am so proud that our children are happy and healthy and then yesterday,  I figured out why…

The whole family was late getting home from school and work and dinner was later than normal. At one point, Emily started crying that she was staaarving and laid on the floor crying. Then she started freaking out saying that she couldn’t see and that it was so dark and we still had not eaten yet. The kid was throwing a fit. Just then, Joe bent down and said ‘Emily, you have on sunglasses.’

So crisis diverted till dinner is finished. But two minutes later, she is crying again that she is staaarving. Then it got silent. A few seconds later, she came into the kitchen with a giant apple which she washed herself in the bathroom sink.

So although I am proud that I have kept my kids alive, I am not so sure that yesterday was the best evidence for this. Thank God they can get their own food… I finally realized that all my potted plants starve to death.

Until next time,





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I am a mother of three small children with a wonderful husband. Having children is not as simple as black and white. Having kids is black, white and crazy. I hope you enjoy my blog of my crazy escapades.

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