I'm afraid it’s all my fault. Having a few days ago expressed my hope that nobody gets sick in the next couple of weeks, I don't know what I expected other than for everyone to get sick immediately. Zoe was first, followed closely by Mila and then I was near k/o’ed last night with a fever and aches.
But we're here, surviving. My mom brought us some seeds to plant so maybe that’s what I’ll do today. My transformation into a semi functional adult has actually begun with my ability to keep a plant alive for a whole year. Baking only came after that. The plant, of course, is of a near unkillable variety but I have had a few cacti die from dehydration in my time so that should give you an idea of the level of incompetence.
Are you guys the type of people to name your plants? I used to be. I swear there was a time when I was quirky and “creative”, named inanimate objects, wore colourful tights. Dark solid brown tights count as the adventurous choice now. What happened to me? So no, I don’t name my plants any more, though I have had to name the plants we have now. I call it the the “fish are friends not food” strategy. Teaching Zoe their names worked a treat for preventing her pulling off their leaves and eating them (oh humanity you big joke). We have Ally McBeal, the aloe plant, we have Flower, a palm tree containing exactly zero flowers, we have Curly, a small basil plant. Mila doesn’t understand the difference between friends and food yet. The whole concept has been really muddled by breastfeeding, a process where your bestie is actually also your food.
And yes I also grow things from seeds in little planters. It's very satisfying, especially after making people. “Wait, that’s all I have to do?” It’s the most accomplished I’ve ever felt for this little effort. I learnt that provided you do an even half decent job your plants will grow anyway. When you grow sunflowers or chives or whatever, they tell you to pick the strongest plants and thin out the rest. Maybe babies wouldn’t be so useless with the threat of natural selection looming over them. We have to make do with whatever plant destroying poison eating little seedlings we get and just hope they don't turn into one of those people that think wearing colourful tights is the pinnacle of quirkiness.
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A large chunk of my mental energy has been taken up by planning an Easter egg hunt for Zoe and a few of her friends. Do I have everything I need? Have I told people the details? Is Shmike going to be a dick about me hosting a children’s event in the communal garden? I did actually email the management company to check it would be okay, 180ing from my initial “rather apologise than ask for permission” plan. As you can imagine, finalising details of a very labour intensive children’s party while sick is a 0 out of 10 experience but since we're all feeling better and will very likely be fine by Sunday I can't justify postponing.
I’m sure it’ll be fun. I did one for Zoe and her friend last year. At the time I only had one mom friend, something that's changed now. I’ve had to force myself to socialise since if I don’t, I’ll be her only source of entertainment and that’s just a grim, grim thought. Also, it's been surprisingly nice. Some of these people I would choose to be friends with even without the children, though most of them make me feel fully inadequate as a mother, woman, human, etc. Do people just pretend to have things together? What am I missing? I wonder if there’s anyone out there intimidated by something I do, like my charming inability to consistently do laundry and my constantly messy hair.
Thankfully there's only two people that really matter, and they think I’m the bees knees. And when they grow up and think I’m not I’m going to remind them about all the fresh basil they got to eat and the fun easter egg hunts, and that despite all odds nobody has had food poisoning yet.
“Do people just pretend to have things together?”
I don’t know, but I felt this exact way when my kids were little. Seemed like everyone else could do it all. I will tell you that I’m *just now* starting to consistently keep my house clean, and my youngest is 18. It gets easier when they’re old enough to help, and even easier than that when they start moving out! 😂