Just Relaxed Blog

Tag: indoor plants

  • Confessions of a Recovering Plant Killer (and Why You Should Totally Become a Plant Parent Too)

    Confessions of a Recovering Plant Killer (and Why You Should Totally Become a Plant Parent Too)

    From Black Thumb to Proud Plant Parent

    Let’s be honest, my history with plants was less “green thumb” and more “leaves-turning-brown-on-contact.” I once managed to kill a cactus. A CACTUS. You know, the plant that thrives on neglect? Yeah, not even those desert warriors could survive my presence.

    So, imagine my surprise when, during the depths of lockdown boredom, I found myself inexplicably drawn to a sad-looking peace lily at the grocery store. It was like it was sending me an S.O.S. with its droopy leaves. Against my better judgment (and the warnings of my roommate), I took it home. And that, my friends, is how my journey into the wonderful world of plant parenthood began.

    The Unexpected Joys of Watching Things Grow (No, Really!)

    I’m not going to lie, the first few weeks were a nerve-wracking dance of Googling “how much water does a peace lily need” and frantically checking for signs of life. But then, something magical happened. My neglected peace lily, the one I was convinced I’d already murdered with kindness (or lack thereof), sprouted a new leaf.

    That tiny, green shoot filled me with an absurd amount of joy. It was like witnessing a tiny miracle, a testament to the fact that maybe, just maybe, I wasn’t destined to be a plant grim reaper after all. And honestly, that feeling? It’s addictive. There’s something incredibly satisfying about nurturing another living thing and watching it thrive under your care.

    Plants: The Chillest Roommates You’ll Ever Have

    Unlike my actual roommate who tends to leave dirty dishes in the sink and blast terrible music at 2 a.m., my plants are the epitome of chill. They don’t require awkward small talk, they haven’t once complained about my questionable taste in reality TV shows, and they actually improve the air quality. Win-win!

    Plus, they’re excellent listeners. Having a bad day? Tell it to the succulents! Feeling stressed? Confide in your monstera! They won’t judge (or at least, I don’t think they will…).

    • Bonus: Plants are proven to reduce stress and boost your mood. Science says so!
    • Double Bonus: They can even make your home look more stylish. Forget expensive artwork, just get yourself a fiddle leaf fig and watch the compliments roll in!

    Ready to Embrace Your Inner Plant Parent?

    So, what are you waiting for? Ditch that black thumb and join the wonderful world of plant parenthood! Trust me, it’s way more fun (and less messy) than you might think.

    Now, tell me, what’s your biggest fear about becoming a plant parent? Let me know in the comments below!

  • Confessions of a Recovering Plant Killer (and Why You Should Totally Get Your Green Thumb On)

    Confessions of a Recovering Plant Killer (and Why You Should Totally Get Your Green Thumb On)




    Confessions of a Recovering Plant Killer (and Why You Should Totally Get Your Green Thumb On)


    From Black Thumb to Proud Plant Parent

    Okay, confession time: I used to be a notorious plant killer. Seriously, I could wither a succulent in a sauna. Give me a cactus, and I’d somehow manage to drown it. It was a sad state of affairs. So, imagine my surprise when, during a particularly uneventful trip to the grocery store, I found myself inexplicably drawn to a droopy little peace lily.

    “Don’t do it,” my inner voice cautioned, “Remember Barry the begonia? And what about Steve the spider plant? Their demise still haunts my dreams!”

    But something about the lily’s sad little leaves called to me. Maybe it was the promise of some much-needed greenery in my life, or maybe it was the deeply discounted price tag. Whatever the reason, I caved.

    And that, my friends, is how my journey into the unexpected (and surprisingly delightful) world of plant parenthood began.

  • Confessions of a Recovering Plant Killer: The Unexpected Joys of Plant Parenthood (and Why You Should Join the Club)

    Confessions of a Recovering Plant Killer: The Unexpected Joys of Plant Parenthood (and Why You Should Join the Club)



    Confessions of a Recovering Plant Killer: The Unexpected Joys of Plant Parenthood

    From Black Thumb to Proud Plant Parent: My Journey Begins

    Let’s be honest, I wasn’t always a friend to foliage. In fact, I was notorious for accidentally offing any greenery that dared to cross my threshold. Cacti, succulents—you name it, I unintentionally sent them to the great greenhouse in the sky.

    plant parent bug bit me, and there was no turning back.

    Stress Relief? Interior Design Guru? The Unexpected Perks of Plant Parenthood

    Who knew that nurturing something green could be so therapeutic? These days, I swear by the calming ritual of watering, misting, and just generally hanging out with my plant babies. Forget meditation apps—give me a watering can and a fussy fern any day! Here’s the deal: plants are like leafy, low-maintenance companions that actually improve your air quality. What’s not to love?

    And speaking of love, let’s talk about how plants can transform your living space. Remember that dark, drab corner that’s been cramping your style? Enter: a majestic Monstera or a vibrant prayer plant. Suddenly, you’re not just a plant parent; you’re an interior design genius!

  • Confessions of a Reformed Plant Killer (and Why You Should Totally Join My Club)

    Confessions of a Reformed Plant Killer (and Why You Should Totally Join My Club)

    From Black Thumb to Proud Plant Parent: My Story

    Let’s be honest, folks. I used to be a plant killer. A serial one, in fact. I’d walk into the garden center with the best intentions, seduced by the vibrant orchids and leafy ferns, only to watch them wither and die a week later. My apartment looked like a graveyard of neglected greenery, a testament to my inability to keep anything alive that wasn’t powered by batteries.

    But then something magical happened. I stumbled upon a scraggly little succulent at a flea market, a dusty survivor with a “please love me” look in its tiny pot. Against my better judgment (and the advice of my horrified friends), I took it home.

    And guess what? That little succulent thrived! It grew new leaves, unfurled delicate blooms, and basically became my plant child. I was hooked. Thus began my journey into the wonderful, wacky world of plant parenthood.

    Leafy Roommates

    Now, I know what you’re thinking: Plants? Really? What’s so great about a bunch of leafy roommates who don’t pay rent? Well, let me tell you, the joys of plant parenthood are many and surprising:

    • Stress Relievers Extraordinaire: Forget the expensive spa day. Caring for plants is incredibly therapeutic. There’s something deeply calming about digging your hands in soil, watering thirsty leaves, and watching new growth emerge. It’s like meditation, but with more chlorophyll.
    • Interior Design on a Budget: Plants are the ultimate home décor hack. They add instant life, color, and texture to any space, transforming your humble abode into a vibrant oasis (or at least a convincing Instagram backdrop). And the best part? They’re way cheaper than that designer sofa you’ve been eyeing.
    • They Make You Look Responsible (Kind Of): Let’s face it, keeping a plant alive gives the illusion of having your life together. Sure, you might forget to pay your bills on time, but hey, at least your monstera is thriving! It’s a small victory, but we’ll take it.

    Plant Parenthood for Beginners: Tips for Success (Even if You’re a Recovering Plant Killer)

    Ready to embrace your inner plant parent? Awesome! Here are a few tips to get you started:

    1. Start Small and Simple: Don’t go overboard with a finicky fiddle-leaf fig right off the bat. Opt for beginner-friendly options like snake plants, ZZ plants, or the aforementioned succulents. They’re practically indestructible, even for us recovering plant killers.
    2. Don’t Overwater (Seriously): Overwatering is the kiss of death for most houseplants. When in doubt, feel the soil. If it’s dry, water it. If it’s damp, leave it alone. Your plants (and your peace of mind) will thank you.
    3. Embrace the Learning Curve: Look, even seasoned plant parents kill a plant (or five) from time to time. It’s all part of the journey. Learn from your mistakes, do your research, and remember, every brown leaf is an opportunity for growth (pun intended).
  • Why I’m Convinced My Houseplant is Secretly Judging Me

    Why I’m Convinced My Houseplant is Secretly Judging Me



    We’ve all been there. You’re sprawled on the couch, three episodes deep into a cheesy reality show, a half-eaten bag of chips precariously balanced on your stomach. You glance up, and there it is: the judgment. From your houseplant.

    Is My Houseplant Giving Me the Side-Eye?

    It started subtly. I’d be rushing out the door, late for work, and catch a glimpse of my peace lily, Steve. (Don’t judge, I’m a firm believer in plants having dignified names.) It felt like he was… following me with his leaves.

    like he was disappointed.

    “Another takeout container in the recycling?” Steve seemed to sigh. “You know, composting is really not that hard.”

    Okay, maybe I was projecting. But the guilt was real.

    My Houseplant Judged My DIY Skills – I Swear!

    One particularly harried evening, I was attempting to assemble furniture using only a butter knife and sheer willpower (it was doomed from the start). I may have uttered a few choice words that would make a sailor blush. That’s when I saw it.

    Steve’s leaves did a full-body shudder.

  • The Unexpected Life Lessons I Learned from a Houseplant

    The Unexpected Life Lessons I Learned from a Houseplant




    My Thumb Went from Brown to… Slightly Less Brown

    Let’s be honest, I’m not exactly known for my green thumb. In fact, I’m more likely to accidentally murder a succulent than keep it alive. So, when my well-meaning friend gifted me a houseplant for my birthday, my immediate thought was, “Oh no, not another one.” I imagined its inevitable demise, a sad pile of wilted leaves joining the ghosts of houseplants past.

    But something unexpected happened. This time, something clicked. Maybe it was the plant’s forgiving nature (seriously, it’s a ZZ plant, they practically thrive on neglect), or maybe I was just finally ready to pay attention. Whatever the reason, this little plant became my unlikely teacher, imparting wisdom I never knew I needed.

    plant-loving friend warned me about overwatering, so I thought, “I’ve got this!” But I completely forgot about the fertilizer.

    Fueled by the best of intentions (and maybe a touch of over-enthusiasm), I decided to give my plant a boost. I envisioned lush, abundant growth practically overnight. So, naturally, I gave it a double dose of fertilizer. What could go wrong, right?

    Well, let’s just say my plant did NOT appreciate my generosity. The leaves started to yellow, and I’m pretty sure it glared at me with silent judgment. After some frantic Googling and a sheepish call to my friend, I learned that patience is key when it comes to plant care (and, you know, life in general).

    Just like we can’t rush personal growth or achieve our goals overnight, plants need time to absorb nutrients and flourish. Sometimes, the best thing we can do is provide what they need and then step back and let them do their thing.

    Lesson #2: Embrace the Sunlight, Even on a Cloudy Day

    Now, anyone who’s met me knows I’m not exactly a morning person. I’m more of a “hit snooze nine times and then reluctantly crawl out of bed” kind of gal. My plant, on the other hand, is all about soaking up those early rays.

    Watching it stretch its leaves towards the morning sun reminded me that even when life feels a bit gloomy, there’s always a source of light if we’re willing to look for it. It might not be the bright, shining sun we expect, but even on the cloudiest of days, there’s still a glimmer of something good to be found.

  • The Unexpected Joys of Being a Plant Parent (and Why You Should Join the Club)

    The Unexpected Joys of Being a Plant Parent (and Why You Should Join the Club)



    Plant Parent: My Story

    Let’s be honest, I used to be a plant killer. I’m talking serial succulent assassin, notorious cactus crusher. If a plant had the misfortune of entering my home, its life expectancy plummeted faster than my patience during rush hour traffic. But something changed last year. Maybe it was the pandemic-induced need for some living, breathing company that wasn’t on a screen. Maybe it was a desperate attempt to bring some life into my apartment, which, let’s face it, resembled a very organized storage unit. Whatever it was, I decided to give plant parenthood another shot.

    And guess what? I didn’t kill them! In fact, they thrived. And so did I. Turns out, being a plant parent comes with a whole host of unexpected joys.

    Stress Relief: Finding Zen One Leaf at a Time

    Remember that feeling of accomplishment you got from finishing a puzzle? Or the pure joy of finally conquering that impossible level on your favorite video game? That’s the feeling I get every time I see a new leaf unfurl on my monstera. It’s a small victory, sure, but it’s a victory nonetheless.

    There’s something incredibly therapeutic about caring for plants. The act of watering, pruning, and even just observing them can melt away stress like sunshine on a snowdrift. And the best part? They don’t judge your messy bun or your questionable dance moves while you’re repotting them (unlike certain furry companions).

  • Why I’m Convinced My Houseplant is Secretly Judging Me

    Why I’m Convinced My Houseplant is Secretly Judging Me



    Why I’m Convinced My Houseplant is Secretly Judging Me

    The Side Eye from a Ficus

    Let’s be honest, we’ve all been there. You’re sprawled on the couch, three episodes deep into a reality TV marathon, a half-eaten bag of chips resting precariously on your stomach. You glance up, and there it is: that look. You know the one— a mixture of disappointment and disdain— from your houseplant. Okay, maybe I’m projecting, but hear me out. My ficus, Ferdinand, has been throwing some serious shade my way lately, and I’m convinced it’s because he secretly judges my life choices.

    maybe that was just the wind.

    Exhibit B: The Curious Incident of the Takeout Containers

    I’ll admit, I have a weakness for takeout. Pad thai on Tuesday? Why not! Sushi on Friday? Obviously! But apparently, Ferdinand finds my culinary choices appalling. I can practically hear him tut-tutting as I unpack yet another styrofoam container, his leaves rustling in disapproval. “Honestly,” he seems to murmur, “a salad wouldn’t kill you.”

  • The Unexpected Life Lessons I Learned From a Houseplant

    The Unexpected Life Lessons I Learned From a Houseplant




    The Unexpected Life Lessons I Learned From a Houseplant

    My Brown Thumb Turns Green (Sort Of)

    Let’s be honest, I’m not exactly known for my nurturing nature. I’m the queen of killing cacti and forgetting to water even the most low-maintenance succulents. So, when my well-meaning friend gifted me a peace lily for my birthday, I accepted it with a smile that was equal parts polite and panicked. “Peace lily? More like ‘please don’t die lily,’” I thought to myself.

    But something strange happened. Maybe it was the guilt of potentially sending another plant to its early demise, or maybe it was the sheer audacity of this green thing daring to thrive in my presence. Whatever it was, I decided to give this whole plant parenting thing an honest go.

    Plant Care)

    Turns out, plants operate on their own sweet time. They don’t care about my deadlines, my social life, or my need for instant gratification. My peace lily, which I affectionately named Ferdinand, grew at a pace that can only be described as glacial. I’m talking millimeters per month, people.

    At first, I was frustrated. I wanted to see dramatic results, flourishing leaves, maybe even a flower or two (a girl can dream, right?). But as the weeks turned into months, I started to appreciate Ferdinand’s slow and steady progress. I learned that real growth takes time, both for plants and for people. We can’t rush the process, no matter how much we might want to.

    Lesson #2: Learning a Plant’s Needs is Like Understanding Yourself

    Here’s a newsflash: plants are actually pretty simple creatures. They need a few basic things to survive: sunlight, water, and nutrients. Who knew, right?

    I quickly discovered that Ferdinand was a bit of a drama queen when it came to his basic needs. Too much sun? Wilted leaves. Not enough water? Droopy disposition. I learned to pay attention to his subtle cues, deciphering his nonverbal language like some sort of plant whisperer (okay, maybe not quite).

    This newfound attentiveness translated to other areas of my life. I started paying closer attention to my own needs, recognizing the signs of burnout and making time for self-care. Who would have thought that a houseplant could teach me the importance of setting boundaries and prioritizing my well-being?

  • Why I’m Convinced My Plant Is Secretly Judging Me

    Why I’m Convinced My Plant Is Secretly Judging Me




    Is My Plant Judging Me? A Hilarious Take on Plant Parenthood


    We all have our quirks. Maybe you leave your socks on the floor (no judgment, sometimes laundry day feels a million miles away) or perhaps you’ve perfected the art of singing off-key in the shower. But have you ever felt like you were being judged…by your houseplant?

    The Side-Eye: My Plant‘s Silent Judgment Begins

    It all started innocently enough. I, like many during the dark days of 2020, decided to become a Plant Parent™. I envisioned a lush jungle oasis, a symphony of green to brighten my home. I brought home a majestic (or so I thought) ZZ plant. I named him Zanzibar, because why not?

    plant light, convinced he just needed a bit more sunshine in his life.

    One particularly rough day, after a grueling workout (read: ten minutes of stretching and scrolling through Instagram), I collapsed onto the couch, panting dramatically. As I reached for my third cookie (don’t judge, you haven’t seen my workout routine), I swear I saw it: Zanzibar, in all his leafy glory, was giving me the side-eye.

    The Crooked Watering Can: Is My Plant Judging My Plant Care Skills?

    From that day forward, I couldn’t shake the feeling that Zanzibar was judging my every move. Left the dishes in the sink a little too long? Zanzibar seemed to wilt in disapproval. Wore the same sweatpants three days in a row? His leaves practically curled in on themselves in horror.

    One morning, as I was watering him (with perfectly measured, room-temperature water, I might add!), the watering can slipped, sending a cascade of water onto the floor. As I scrambled for a towel, I could have sworn I heard a heavy sigh. Okay, maybe not a sigh exactly, but there was definitely some rustling of leaves that sounded suspiciously like judgment.