cheekysuze

I have a black thumb. I once killed a cactus (!!) And my daughter’s grass plants from school. And strawberries. And pretty much anything that needs nurturing besides humans and cats. So it seems odd that I would suddenly be so fixated on starting a garden. What makes me think I can actually grow something? I mean, besides weeds? Maybe it’s just the beauty of springtime. Everything is in bloom and looks so healthy.

Since we may be moving soon, window boxes seemed the best bet. Sweets helped. She was so excited to help me pour the soil and drop in the seeds. And when we broke out the watering can it might as well have been Christmas. She was grinning ear to ear.

It was really nice to spend some quality time with Sweets, without worrying about what trouble Taz was getting into. And I’m almost as excited as she is to see if we can turn those little seedlings into peas and carrots. They’re guaranteed to grow–it said on the package–but they obviously don’t know me!

As an added bonus, she started calling me “Mama” again. I can tell when I’m in her good graces because she stops calling me “Mom” (or on really bad days, “Mo-therrrr!”) Maybe our relationship will grow right along with those seedlings.

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