An Ode to House Plants and Growth
A Blog Hop with Exhale
James, the toddler, enters our bedroom by kicking open the door, and stomping up to my side of the bed. Maybe he didn’t kick it. Or stomp. But at 4:50 in the morning, that’s what it sounds like. Bright light comes in from the hall, and before I can even comprehend that it’s not quite morning, he’s walking over to say “Hi, mama!” with a big grin on his face. I went to bed honestly thinking that today was the day we would be able to sleep in a bit. We had gone to bed pretty late the night before, and although it hadn’t ever worked in the past (as every mother of young children knows), I was really hoping it might work this time. But alas, he’s been waking up before the sun since the gosh-darned daylight savings two weeks ago, so why would today be any different? Why haven’t I been able to solve this and get him to sleep until 6 (at least)? Why can’t he ever sleep in? Why me? Why, oh why, oh why. It wasn’t my intention to wake up on the wrong side of the proverbial bed this morning, but right after “Why?” came the question of “What is that smell?”
I roll off the bed and pad into his room behind him to change his diaper. Seems he’s been up for a bit, because besides the very stinky specimen I’ve tossed into the bin, there are toys scattered all around. One of which I stepped on when leaving his room, almost breaking an ankle. After the diaper is changed, his milk has been distributed, and the 200th “mama” has been uttered, I am finally ready to get dressed to work out.
I click on the Nourish Move Love workout videos I have been following for a while - but the internet isn’t working. Maybe it’s my phone. Thoughts of “Why is this happening? I’ll have to do my own workout, but I won’t get a very good one in.” circle in my head. Since the internet isn’t working, James is at my side playing with trucks and running around instead of sitting quietly watching Handy Man Hal over on the couch. Generally, my kids try to exercise with me, but this morning he needs a little more hands on playing, and keeps saying “Mama no get sweaty. No sweat today!” while running small trucks and excavators over my body and into my space. Sighing, I saunter up the stairs, throwing in the sweat towel that is barely used. Now Emma, our oldest, is waking up and ready for the day, asking for breakfast. It’s now 6:15 am.
Back in 2008, I bought a Peace Lily because I watched the movie Hot Fuzz, and I liked that the main character had a plant that he took with him when he moved. Throughout the movie it showed his commitment to keeping it alive, though in the end, he uses it as a defensive weapon. Honestly, that was the saddest part of the movie, to me. Anyway, I was about to enter my sophomore year of college, and was living in a house with five other girls. That plant survived with me through all those crazy college nights and into an apartment in my hometown with my best friend after graduation. This plant came with me to the house my husband and I first shared, and has survived many different rooms, climates, and forgotten waterings. How many times it fell over, or was dropped, I’ll never know.
One time, the whole bottom of the wooden planter fell out, and there was dirt all over the beige carpet for weeks. I’ve forgotten to get someone to water it during vacations and when we were in the hospital after my c-section. It’s witnessed a few animals in our home, some of which wanted to chew on the plant. Our first child actually chewed on that plant too. (I called Poison Control, don’t worry, the kids and the animals were okay.) This plant could tell so many stories. And all these years later, I’m adding to its ranks. In our current home we have added eight other kinds of plants in fifteen pots on our banister under a sky light. It’s the only place in the house that will allow them to grow.
I put a little sticker on my planner for every two weeks that I go through and take stock of the plants. What needs to be watered, what could use a new pot or some dead leafing. It’s a little sort of cleaning ritual I don’t mind doing, and can have the kids help sometimes too. Over time, I’ve learned that some plants, like my peace lily, can show me what they need. If there are dead leaves, I take them off, giving more energy to the healthy ones. If the leaves droop over, it probably needs water. If it looks a bit wonky on one side or the other, I rotate it. Sometimes they get a bit dusty, so I need to clean them a bit, to make them shiny and beautiful. Once a year I repot the ones that just need a bit more space, and sometimes even snip off some branches to propagate them in order to make even more plants to add on to the banister.
My plants not only provide good vibes and oxygen to our space, but also a small area of peace that sits in the middle of our home. I’m grateful for their consistency and the grace I sometimes feel they give me when I don’t quite get the care they need correct the first time.
During this morning that starts out “wrong”, I inevitably start to feel a little overstimulated. Probably somewhere between the 958th “mama” and the spilled coffee, my eyes glaze over and I can’t focus on anything. My gaze settles on the plants. Green and white, and even a bit of purple. Each pot a different color than the last.
I breathe in. “The morning wasn’t supposed to start this way” I think.
I breathe out. Now what do I do to bring grace into myself and to this house?
Two minutes earlier, I had yelled at my kids for rough housing and screaming. But they were laughing and making fart sounds. Emma had grabbed James’ hand at one point and they had skipped around the room. Why was I yelling?— That question might follow me around all day. Now I’m standing here with a towel in my hands cleaning up spilled coffee, and tears in my eyes because I got frustrated and yelled at my kids. Can I salvage this day? Is it even possible? I’d rather crawl back in bed and numb the thoughts with scrolling social media, or by watching Netflix.
After taking in some mindful breaths, I pull myself together and get the kids their 8th snack of the day. I sit and stretch in a different room, the sounds of Blippi wafting from the kid’s play house in the living room. I can still serve my body when I’m stretching, even if a sweat was pretty non-existent. Breathing in and out of stretches, my thoughts calm and I can see the sun shining through the curtains. I open the blinds and let light in. After a quick shower, and putting on the good lotion, I take time to put on some eye patches while I read my bible for a few minutes.
When I’m as ready as I can get for the day, I hug the kids and apologize for yelling. They are not frustrating, the situation was. They had a need (more snacks), and I spilled my coffee because I was rushing around. Mommy didn’t say all the right things at the time, but isn’t it wonderful that I can recognize that now, and can apologize? It’s also wonderful that God still loves mommy even when she’s frustrated. I scoop them up for a hug, and we all get dressed to go outside and play.
Some of the plants on the banister need a bit more tender love and care. Their leaves don’t droop when they need something, they just out and out fall over or turn brown all in one night. They need attention on days when it’s not watering or repotting day. I feel that sometimes I wish I had plant telepathy. I could look at my plants and just know the solution. Instead, I see a dead leaf, and I can prune that away gently. I can repot into a bigger pot, or a more porous one, or in different soil. Sometimes a good soaking is needed for the plant in question, or a more sunny position on the plant banister. In the end, I try to leave it in good condition, and then I pray. Although the next day could bring more green shoots, or more dead leaves, I can always try again.
When the day starts out making me feel as if I need to break away and absolutely fall over, I take a look at my house plants and breathe. What thoughts can I prune from my mind as I do with the dead leaves? Can I say kinder things in calmer tones to myself and my kids while refreshing the soil? Maybe we all need to play in the water, run a bath, soak for a bit. Sometimes a trip to the park on repotting day is what’s needed. While I pray and say kind words to my plants, I also pray for growth as the mother of our family. The spilled coffee and intrusive thoughts of not being able to handle it all will happen from time to time, just like dead leaves or plant gnats. But they will go, too, when I remember we can always clean it up and try again.
This post is part of a blog hop with Exhale—an online community of women pursuing creativity alongside motherhood, led by the writing team behind Coffee + Crumbs. Click here to view the next post in the series "Tender."
Thank you for reading Ramblings of a thirty four year old wife and mom. Suggestion box is open and ready for inspiration on the next big ramble to write about. Don’t be shy!
Inspiration for you: Tell me about something ordinary that when you look at it, brings you peace and puts you in a frame of mind to conquer the day.
Inspiration (and accountability) for me: Really wanting to tell you about some traveling I had done back in August - let’s do this!
Currently reading: Iona Iverson’s Rules of Commuting - for Exhale book club, and reading Stolen Tongues for fun. Loving them both!
Thanks for sharing! Very relatable- I often try to exercise while my kids watch tv or move alongside me... which have similar sets of challenges. And we have a bunch of house plants I love as well. But not a peace lily- I may have to buy one!
Love the plant photos!