From Black Thumb to Proud Plant Parent
Let’s be honest, before I became a “plant parent,” the only things I successfully kept alive were takeout leftovers and the occasional houseplant I’d completely forgotten about (sorry, Philodendron, you were delicious). I was a self-proclaimed black thumb, convinced that any plant entering my home was destined for a slow and tragic demise. But then, something changed. Maybe it was the pandemic, maybe it was a quarter-life crisis, or maybe (just maybe) it was the adorable little succulent staring at me from the grocery store checkout line. Whatever it was, I took the plunge, and thus began my unexpected journey into the wonderful, weird, and surprisingly hilarious world of plant parenthood.
Remember that feeling you got as a kid when you finally figured out long division? Or the pure, unadulterated joy of finding a $20 bill in your pocket? That’s the feeling of seeing new growth on your plant, my friends. It’s pure magic! One day, you’re watering your little green buddy, convinced you’re drowning it (more on that later), and the next day, BAM! A new leaf, a tiny sprout, a whole new branch! It’s like your plant is giving you a high five for not killing it, and trust me, the feeling is intoxicating. I’ve caught myself staring at my monstera for an embarrassingly long time, just waiting for it to unfurl another one of its magnificent, holey leaves. It’s become a competitive sport, really. “Oh, you grew 2 inches last week, Phil? Well, watch out, Gertrude the spider plant is coming for your crown!”
The Agony of Overwatering: A Plant Parent’s Biggest Fear
Okay, let’s be real. Plant parenthood isn’t all sunshine and new growth. There are struggles, my friends, and most of them involve water. You see, I have this tendency to over-parent. Whether it’s my plants, my dog, or my collection of vintage teacups (don’t judge), I just want to shower them with love! And what better way to show your plants love than with a nice, refreshing drink of…death?
Yes, you read that right. Overwatering is the silent killer of many a plant parent’s dreams. It starts with good intentions, a splash too much water here, a little extra misting there. But before you know it, your beloved peace lily is wilting faster than your enthusiasm for that online sourdough bread baking class you signed up for during lockdown. It’s a vicious cycle of guilt, Google searches, and desperate attempts to revive your drowning green child.
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