Sunday, March 30, 2008

Dirty Dirt

It is with hesitation and a feeling of deep shame that I confess what I fear is a dislike for gardening. I love plants and flowers; I love looking at them and smelling their aroma. It’s the dirt I don’t like. I really, really don’t like dirt. First of all, sitting on the ground in the dirt is not something that appeals to me because of all the skittery ants and bugs. Even when wearing gardening gloves I become a bit squeamish at the sight of juicy pink earthworms writhing around in my trowel.

The idea may not seem like such a trial if I was actually good with plants. I need low maintenance flowers because I have a propensity toward destroying them; and there is the ordeal of where to put them. I’m not a landscaper, I don’t know about these things. It really is quite embarrassing.

So far, our method of gardening is me instructing my husband on where I think it best for a particular plant or shrub to go, and him digging around in the dirt and mulch gloveless, getting dirt under his nails and manhandling the weird live things that he finds in the bowels of the backyard, at which point I need to avert my eyes and insist that he not let our son touch that! I realize that my son is indeed a boy and will most likely find himself drawn to all things slimy, but I would prefer to delay that phase until he has learned not to put his hands in his mouth when he plays outside.

If nothing else I feel I must be succeeding at being Mommy because when I opened my eyes this morning both of the cats were staring worriedly at me from the bedside. My husband herded both of the kiddos downstairs so that I could lie in bed undisturbed for an extra half hour. The sounds of coffee beans being ground and pancake batter being mixed were lovely.

The cats sensed the abnormality of the situation and hastened to my side. I do not know if they were just checking to make sure I was still breathing, or if they were concerned about Daddy being left alone to multitask while the children were present. It’s hard to sleep while being stared at and I was pretty confident the baby needed a clean diaper, so I got up. It was nice while it lasted!

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