Just Relaxed Blog

Tag: new plant parent

  • 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)

    From Black Thumb to Proud Plant Parent: My Story

    Let’s be honest, I wasn’t always a green thumb. In fact, I was infamous for accidentally murdering even the hardiest of succulents. My friends gifted me plastic plants out of pity (which, ironically, I managed to knock over and break). But then, something magical happened: I adopted a scraggly little basil plant from the clearance aisle.

    This little basil, against all odds and my complete lack of horticultural knowledge, thrived. It sprouted new leaves, it smelled divine, and it even survived a near-death experience involving an overturned watering can (oops!). That’s when I realized: plants weren’t just green decorations, they were tiny, resilient lifeforms I could actually keep alive! And dare I say, I was starting to enjoy their company.

    The Little Plant Victories That Feel Like Major Wins

    Being a plant parent is an emotional rollercoaster, but the highs are surprisingly high. Here are a few moments that’ll have you fist-pumping the air like you just won the plant lottery:

    • Witnessing new growth: That first tiny leaf unfurling? It’s basically a miracle.
      A stylishly decorated living room with several healthy plants
  • 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 Killer

    Let’s be honest, my thumbs used to be about as green as a flamingo. I was the grim reaper of succulents, the bane of basil’s existence. If a plant even dared to wilt dramatically in my presence, I’d apologize profusely before escorting it to the compost bin. “It’s not you, it’s me,” I’d whisper, riddled with plant-parent guilt.

    But something changed. Maybe it was the pandemic, maybe it was a desperate attempt to bring some life into my apartment (besides my goldfish, Bubbles, who, let’s be honest, isn’t the most stimulating conversationalist). Whatever it was, I decided to give this whole plant thing another go. And let me tell you, I’ve never looked back.

    Plant Parent‘s Victory

    Friends, there is nothing quite like the triumphant feeling of witnessing new growth on a plant you’re responsible for keeping alive. It’s like winning a tiny, green lottery. That first little sprout, that unfurling leaf – it’s a testament to your nurturing abilities (or at least your ability to follow instructions on a care label).

    Suddenly, you understand why people talk to their plants. You find yourself cooing at your ferns, whispering encouragements to your cacti, and maybe even shedding a tear or two when your peace lily blooms (okay, maybe that last one is just me).

    Zen and the Art of Plant Care: Finding Peace in Nature

    Life can be hectic. Between work, social commitments, and the never-ending quest for the perfect avocado toast, finding a moment of peace can feel impossible. Enter: plant care.

    There’s something incredibly therapeutic about tending to your leafy companions. Misting their leaves, checking for pests, repotting when they’ve outgrown their pots – it’s a meditative practice that forces you to slow down, be present, and appreciate the simple things in life.

  • The Unexpected Life Lessons I Learned from a Houseplant

    The Unexpected Life Lessons I Learned from a Houseplant

    My Little Green Guru

    Let’s be honest, my thumbs have never exactly been emerald green. In fact, I’m pretty sure I’ve managed to kill a cactus with kindness (RIP, Spike). So, when my well-meaning friend gifted me a houseplant—“It’ll brighten up your space!” she chirped—I accepted it with the same enthusiasm I reserve for dentist appointments. Little did I know, this leafy green roommate would soon become my unlikely life coach.

    Leafy,” seemed content to just…exist. It wasn’t exactly thriving, but hey, at least it wasn’t a pile of brown mush like my previous attempts at plant parenthood. Then came the day Leafy decided to sprout a new leaf. This wasn’t just any leaf, mind you, this was a monstrous, gangly thing that shot out at an alarming angle. It looked like Leafy was trying to flag down a passing airplane.

    “Seriously?” I muttered, staring at the botanical anomaly. “You couldn’t have grown a nice, normal leaf like a normal plant?”

    But as the days passed, that awkward leaf unfurled, revealing itself to be the most magnificent, vibrant leaf on the entire plant. It was a stark reminder that growth is rarely linear or graceful. Sometimes, we have to embrace the awkward stages, the unexpected detours, and trust that something beautiful will bloom eventually.

    Lesson #2: The Importance of a Good Soak

    Now, I’m a big believer in routine. I like my coffee at 8:00 am, my yoga class at 6:00 pm, and my existential dread promptly at bedtime. So, naturally, I approached Leafy’s care with the same regimented precision. Every Sunday, like clockwork, I’d give it a little sprinkle of water.

    However, it turns out plants, unlike my carefully curated schedule, don’t always adhere to rigid timelines. After weeks of my meticulous mini-waterings, Leafy started to droop. Its leaves went limp, and it looked about as lively as a discarded feather duster. Panicked, I frantically Googled “droopy plant help ASAP!”

    The solution? A good, long soak. Apparently, those little sips weren’t cutting it. Sometimes, we need to ditch the surface-level approach and allow ourselves to be fully immersed in what nourishes us—whether that’s a long bath, a heart-to-heart with a friend, or a weekend spent pursuing a forgotten passion.

  • The Unspoken Rules of Being a Plant Parent

    The Unspoken Rules of Being a Plant Parent




    The Unspoken Rules of Being a Plant Parent

    My Brown Thumb Redemption Arc (Or So I Thought)

    Remember that time I swore off plants because I accidentally murdered a cactus? Yeah, well, past me clearly didn’t anticipate the siren song of a clearance-aisle fiddle leaf fig. Fast forward to present day, and my apartment looks like a greenhouse exploded. But becoming a bonafide plant parent? Oh honey, that’s not just about keeping things alive—it’s about navigating a whole set of unspoken rules.

    The Drama of a Dramatic Leaf Drop

    Listen, I’m a rational human being. I understand that plants shed leaves. It’s natural. But catch me dramatically mourning a single yellowed leaf like I’m Ophelia in Hamlet? Absolutely. We, as plant parents, are contractually obligated to engage in this theatricality. It doesn’t matter if our plant is thriving with new growth, a fallen comrade sends us spiraling into a vortex of self-doubt and frantic Google searches. “Why is my plant shedding leaves?! Is it dying?! Is it me?! Am I the drama?!”

    And don’t even get me started on the art of the “subtle brag.” We pretend to lament the loss of a leaf while subtly angling the conversation towards the vigorous new growth sprouting from the top. It’s a delicate dance, really.

  • The Unspoken Rules of Being a Plant Parent

    The Unspoken Rules of Being a Plant Parent




    The Unspoken Rules of Being a Plant Parent


    Confessions of a Budding Plant Parent

    Let’s be honest, folks. I became a plant parent for the aesthetic. That lush, verdant Instagram feed? Totally fell for it. Little did I know, my journey into the leafy world would be less “tranquil oasis” and more “daily emotional rollercoaster.”

    It all started with Herbert, my peace lily. I brought him home, placed him by a sunny window, and waited for my home to transform into a tropical paradise. Instead, Herbert just… wilted. Turns out, being a plant parent is less about posing for pictures and more about understanding the silent language of your leafy roommates. So, after a few (dozen) mishaps, I’ve compiled a list of the unspoken rules of plant parenthood. Trust me, your green babies will thank you.

    1. The Thrill of New Growth (and the Agony of Yellow Leaves)

    Rule number one: every new leaf deserves a celebratory dance. Seriously, that tiny sprout signifies growth, resilience, and your undeniable plant whispering skills. Post it on Instagram! Text your mom! You’ve earned those bragging rights.

    On the flip side, a single yellow leaf? Cue the existential dread. Is it overwatering? Underwatering? A rare fungal disease only documented in the Amazon rainforest? Google becomes your best friend (and worst enemy) as you spiral into a research frenzy, convinced you’re one brown spot away from plant homicide.