Just Relaxed Blog

Tag: plant lady

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

    Why I’m Convinced My Houseplant is Secretly Judging Me

    We all have them, those little quirks that make us human. Maybe you leave the dishes “soaking” for a suspiciously long time, or perhaps you’ve mastered the art of wearing the same pair of pajamas for three days straight (no judgment here). But what if, and hear me out on this, our houseplants are silently observing these quirks? Judging them, even?

    The Side-Eye From My Monstera

    It all started innocently enough. I was gifted a beautiful Percy, naturally, and placed him on my bookshelf, imagining our future filled with leafy companionship and Instagram-worthy photoshoots.

    However, my idyllic vision of plant parenthood quickly took a turn. I’d be curled up on the couch, shamelessly binge-watching reality TV in my rattiest sweatpants, when I’d catch Percy‘s leaves subtly angled towards me. Was it my imagination, or was that a silent judgment on his velvety green face?

    Percy‘s leaves quiver. Was he…disgusted? Appalled by my lack of baking prowess? I mean, he wasn’t wrong, but still. It felt personal.

    The Curious Case of the Wilting Fern

    And let’s not forget about Fiona, the fern who met an untimely demise. Now, I’m not saying Percy had anything to do with it, but the timing was suspicious, to say the least. Fiona started wilting the day after I accidentally blasted her with hairspray (it was a windy day, okay?).

    While I mourned Fiona’s crispy fronds, I couldn’t shake the feeling that Percy was somehow… smug? Was he secretly relieved to be rid of the competition for my (admittedly sporadic) attention?

  • 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 Newly Minted Plant Person

    Remember that time I swore I’d never become “one of those plant people?” Yeah, about that… Fast forward to me, elbow-deep in potting mix, cooing sweet nothings to a droopy fern named Ferdinand. The truth is, becoming a plant parent is a slippery slope, a delightful descent into a world of photosynthesis, propagation, and yes, a touch of obsession.

    But here’s the thing: nobody tells you about the unspoken rules. It’s like there’s this secret society of plant lovers, exchanging knowing glances over their thriving monsteras. Well, fear not, fellow plant enthusiasts, because I’m spilling the (organic, fertilizer-enriched) tea on the unspoken rules of being a plant parent.

    Rule #1: Thou Shalt Talk to Thy Plants (and Occasionally Apologize)

    Look, I know it sounds crazy, but there’s something therapeutic about whispering words of encouragement to your leafy companions. Maybe it’s the fresh oxygen going to my head, but I swear my plants perk up when I tell them they’re looking particularly vibrant. And when I accidentally overwater (it happens!), a heartfelt apology is in order. “I’m so sorry, Philodendron Pete! I didn’t mean to give you swamp roots!”

    Is it scientifically proven that plant whispering works? Who knows! But here’s what I do know:

    • It makes me feel more connected to my plants.
    • It gives me a chance to channel my inner plant whisperer (which, let’s be honest, is a highly coveted skill).
    • It’s way more fun than just watering them in silence.

    Rule #2: The Internet Is Your Best Friend (and Worst Enemy)

    Oh, the internet. A vast repository of plant care knowledge and a breeding ground for crippling plant anxiety. One Google search can send you down a rabbit hole of conflicting advice, leaving you more confused than when you started.

    Here’s my advice: find a few reputable sources you trust (hello, local nursery experts!) and stick with them. Don’t fall prey to the endless scroll of Instagram-perfect plant shelves and the pressure to buy every trendy new variety. Remember, the best plant for you is one that thrives in your home and brings you joy, not Instagram likes.

    Rule #3: Embrace the “Plant Parent Starter Pack”

    Congratulations, you’ve officially entered the world of plant parenthood! This means you’re now the proud owner of:

    1. An ever-growing collection of terracotta pots, even though you swore you wouldn’t buy any more.
    2. A suspicious-looking bottle of “miracle grow” that you’re pretty sure is just sugar water, but you’re too afraid to stop using it.
    3. A deep and abiding love for natural light that rivals a sunflower’s.

    Don’t fight it, my friend. Embrace the quirks of plant parenthood. After all, it’s all part of the fun.

    So, Are You Ready to Join the Club?

    The world of plant parenthood is full of laughter, learning, and yes, the occasional heartbreak (RIP, my beloved peace lily). But it’s also incredibly rewarding to nurture living things and watch them flourish under your care. So, tell me, are you ready to join the club?

  • The Unexpected Joys of Being a Plant Parent (and Why You Need More Plants in Your Life)

    The Unexpected Joys of Being a Plant Parent (and Why You Need More Plants in Your Life)




    The Unexpected Joys of Being a Plant Parent (and Why You Need More Plants in Your Life)

    My Journey to Accidental Plant Lady (and Why Your Cat Might Approve)

    Let’s be honest, before I became a plant parent, my thumbs were about as brown as my morning coffee. I once managed to kill a cactus. A CACTUS. It was embarrassing, really. But then, something magical happened. My well-meaning friend, bless her soul, gifted me a peace lily for my birthday. And against all odds… it survived.

    That peace lily, my friends, was the gateway drug to a full-blown plant obsession. My apartment, once a haven of beige and dust bunnies (don’t judge), is now a veritable jungle. My cat, previously the undisputed queen of the domain, eyes the new leafy tenants with a mixture of suspicion and begrudging acceptance.

    Unexpected Perks of Living in a Jungle (The Good Kind of Jungle)

    Here’s the thing about plants – they’re not just pretty faces (although, let’s be real, they are stunning). They come with a whole host of benefits I never saw coming:

    1. Stress Reduction: Your Plants are Basically Therapists

    Remember that feeling when you finally manage to untangle your headphones after rummaging through your bag? That’s the kind of serene satisfaction I get from tending to my plants. Watering, pruning, even just misting those leafy babies – it’s oddly therapeutic. Plus, studies have shown that being around plants can actually reduce stress levels. Science, take a bow.

    2. Air Purification: Say Goodbye to Stale Air, Hello Freshness

    Confession time: I’m a sucker for those fancy air fresheners with names like “Mountain Breeze” and “Ocean Mist.” But let’s be real, they’re basically just glorified perfume bottles. Plants, on the other hand, are the real MVPs of air purification. They absorb toxins and release oxygen, making your home smell less like stale takeout and more like, well, nature.

  • 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


    From Green Thumb to Green Paranoia

    I used to think I had a green thumb. My windowsills overflowed with vibrant succulents, dramatic ferns, and even the occasional, surprisingly resilient orchid. I whispered words of encouragement to my leafy companions, celebrated new growth like a proud parent, and generally considered myself a friend to all flora. But lately, something has changed. My once peaceful plant haven has become a source of low-key anxiety. Why? Because I swear, one of my houseplants is judging me.

    plant lady starter pack, right? But hear me out. Agnes is a drama queen. One day, she’s basking in the sunlight, leaves practically shimmering with gratitude for my care. The next? She’s wilting like a Victorian child who just heard a mildly inappropriate joke. And the worst part? I can’t figure out why! I water her on schedule, mist her leaves, even serenade her with early 2000s pop (don’t judge, she seems to like it). Yet, there she’ll be, drooping dramatically, throwing me the most obvious side-eye over her lush, green shoulder. It’s as if she’s saying, “Really, Susan? This is the best you can do?”

    Exhibit B: My Houseplant Hates Me, But Loves My Other Plants

    To make matters worse, Agnes isn’t my only plant. Oh no, I have a whole botanical jury assembled on my windowsill. And while Agnes is busy judging my every horticultural decision, the rest of them are thriving. My peace lily is practically throwing out new blooms every week. The succulents are plump and content. Even the notoriously finicky air plant is clinging to life with an almost aggressive enthusiasm. It’s like they’re all in cahoots, silently whispering amongst themselves:

    • “Did you see Susan forget to rotate the ZZ plant again?”
    • “Honestly, the nerve of some people, thinking they can just bring us home and neglect basic plant care.”
    • “At least she got the humidity levels right this time. Baby steps, darling, baby steps.”

    I’m telling you, the judgment is real. I can feel it in the rustling of their leaves, the subtle tilt of their stems, the way they seem to collectively hold their breath whenever I walk into the room.

    Judging Me?

    Look, maybe I’m being a little paranoid. Maybe I’m projecting my own insecurities about being a “plant parent” onto my leafy roommates. Or maybe, just maybe, my houseplants are silently judging my every move. What do you think? Do your plants judge you too?


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

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





    From Serial Plant Slayer to Proud Plant Parent

    Okay, let’s be real—I wasn’t always this “crazy plant lady” you see before you. In fact, I used to be a notorious plant killer. I’m talking serial succulent slayer, a black thumb with a graveyard of neglected greenery. If a plant even dared to grace my windowsill, it seemed to spontaneously combust. Dramatic? Maybe. But trust me, my lack of a green thumb was legendary.

    Then, something magical happened. My well-meaning friend, bless her soul, gifted me this sad-looking little fern for my birthday. I’m pretty sure she was hedging her bets, expecting it to join the choir invisible within a week. But something in me snapped. Maybe it was the fern’s drooping fronds whispering, “Help me, you’re my only hope!” Or perhaps it was the realization that my apartment looked like a beige prison cell. Whatever the reason, I vowed to keep this fern alive.

    plant alive isn’t rocket science. Who knew that a little water, sunlight, and the occasional pep talk (don’t judge) could work wonders? As I diligently cared for Fernie (yes, I named him), I started noticing something amazing—he was thriving! New fronds unfurled with an enthusiasm that was surprisingly contagious. My confidence grew, and soon I was adopting abandoned succulents, befriending forgotten ficuses, and even propagating pothos like a seasoned plant witch.

    Here’s the thing about plants—they talk to you. Not literally, of course (although sometimes I swear I hear Fernie whisper “More coffee, please”). But they communicate their needs in subtle ways. A drooping leaf? Thirsty. Yellowing tips? Too much sun. Suddenly, I was fluent in Plant, and it was surprisingly rewarding.

    Unexpected Benefits of Plant Parenthood: More Than Just Green Thumbs

    Becoming a plant parent has brought more than just greenery into my life—it’s brought a whole bunch of unexpected joys:

    • Stress-busting superpowers: Seriously, nothing calms the mind like digging your hands in some soil or misting a thirsty Monstera. It’s like meditation, but with more chlorophyll.
    • A sense of accomplishment: Every new leaf is a tiny victory, a testament to your nurturing skills. Take that, self-doubt!
    • A home that feels more alive: Plants add life, color, and even personality to your space. Plus, they make you look like a responsible adult who can keep something alive besides takeout leftovers.
    • A connection to nature: In our tech-filled world, having a little piece of nature indoors is incredibly grounding and refreshing.
  • 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)




    Confessions of a Former Plant Killer

    Okay, let’s be real – I used to be a notorious plant killer. My thumbs were anything but green. My track record with houseplants was less “thriving jungle oasis” and more “desolate wasteland of drooping leaves.” I’d buy a beautiful fern, full of hope and good intentions, only to watch it wither away within weeks. It was a vicious cycle of guilt, shame, and more guilt (poor ferns!).

    But then, something changed. Maybe it was the pandemic, maybe it was a surge in my inner plant lady, but I decided to give this whole plant parenting thing another shot. And guess what? It turns out, I actually kind of love it. Who knew?

    plant might not seem like everyone’s idea of a good time. But trust me, there’s something incredibly satisfying about nurturing another living thing and watching it thrive under your care. Every new leaf that unfurls, every bloom that bursts open, feels like a personal victory. It’s like your plant is giving you a tiny, leafy high five for not killing it (yet!).

    Plus, there’s a certain zen-like quality to plant care. Watering, pruning, even just misting the leaves—it’s all very therapeutic and calming. It’s like a mini-meditation session, except with less chanting and more dirt under your fingernails.

    Benefits of Indoor Plants for Mental Well-being

    Studies have shown that being around plants can reduce stress and improve concentration. Caring for plants can also be a mindful activity, allowing you to focus on the present moment and connect with nature, even in an urban environment.

    From Sad Desk to #PlantGoals: Styling Your Space with Plants

    Let’s be honest, sometimes our living spaces need a little…help. That’s where our leafy friends come in. Plants have this magical ability to transform a room from drab to fab instantly. A pop of green here, a trailing vine there, and suddenly your apartment looks like it belongs in a stylish magazine spread.

    And the best part? You don’t need to be an interior design guru to pull it off. A well-placed monstera in a cool pot, a cute succulent arrangement on your bookshelf, even a simple vase of fresh flowers can make all the difference. Trust me, your Instagram feed (and your soul) will thank you.

  • Is My Houseplant Silently Judging My Life Choices? (The Evidence is Compelling)

    Is My Houseplant Silently Judging My Life Choices? (The Evidence is Compelling)

    Is My Houseplant Judging Me? (The Evidence is Compelling)

    Let’s be honest, we’ve all been there. Staring into the abyss of a messy living room, empty takeout containers judging you from the coffee table, when suddenly… you feel it. That unmistakable feeling of being watched. You slowly turn your head, and there it is: your usually placid Peace Lily, seemingly glaring at you with an air of quiet disapproval.

    When My Plant Parent Skills Were Called into Question

    It all started innocently enough. I was a proud plant parent, showering my leafy companions with love, water, and the occasional serenade (don’t judge, they seemed to like it!). But then, things started to change. It began with a subtle droop here, a yellowing leaf there. “Just a phase,” I told myself, misting furiously. But deep down, a seed of doubt had been planted (pun intended).

    Evidence is Clear: My Plants Are Giving Me the Side-Eye

    The signs were subtle at first, but soon, they became impossible to ignore. I’d come home late from a night out, only to be met with what I swear was a particularly withering stare from my Monstera. Did it sigh? I could have sworn I heard a sigh. And then there was the time I accidentally killed my cactus (RIP, Spike). My remaining succulents haven’t looked me directly in the…well, pot… since.

    Here’s a breakdown of the evidence, because even my paranoia needs structure:

    1. The Dramatic Leaf Drop: You know, the one that happens right after you’ve finished vacuuming. Coincidence? I think not.
    2. The Suspicious Wilting: Always timed perfectly to coincide with my most stressful deadlines and questionable life choices.
    3. The Unexplained Growth Spurts: Like, am I being mocked for my own lack of personal growth? It’s a thought.
  • Why I’m Convinced My Plant is Secretly Judging Me

    Why I’m Convinced My Plant is Secretly Judging Me



    The Side-Eye I Swear I See

    Let’s be honest, we’ve all been there. You’re scarfing down leftover pizza at 2 am, catching your reflection in the window—and then it hits you. You swear you see a flicker of judgment in the leaves of your usually placid houseplant.

    Maybe I’m just projecting, but ever since I brought Herbert, my oversized peace lily, home from the garden center, I’ve been convinced he’s got my number. And trust me, it’s not a good number.

    Herbert might be a highly evolved life form trapped in a terracotta prison came during one of my less-than-stellar housekeeping moments. Okay, fine, it was a full-blown disaster zone. Let’s just say my apartment was auditioning for a role in a post-apocalyptic film.

    As I sat down to work (surrounded by a fortress of coffee mugs and empty takeout containers, naturally), I noticed Herbert‘s leaves were pointed directly at my keyboard. Now, I’m not a botanist, but even I could tell those were some seriously judgmental leaves. They practically whispered, “Seriously? You couldn’t be bothered to spare a crumb for a plant in need?”

    Exhibit B: The Great Plant Watering Debacle of 2023

    We’ve all heard the saying, “Happy wife, happy life.” Well, in the plant world, it’s all about the watering schedule. And let’s just say my track record with keeping Herbert hydrated is…spotty at best.

    There have been times when I’ve showered him with affection (and a little too much tap water), only to forget about him entirely the next week. And you know what? He remembers. Oh, he remembers. That subtle droop in his leaves? Pure passive-aggressive plant drama.

    One particularly scorching summer day, I realized I’d committed the cardinal sin of plant parenthood: I’d let Herbert’s soil turn to literal dust. As I rushed to the sink, frantically filling my watering can, I could have sworn I heard a heavy sigh. Okay, maybe it was the wind. But the way he perked up after that near-death experience? Definitely a power move.

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

    Why I’m Convinced My Plant is Secretly Judging Me



    We all have our little quirks, right? Maybe you leave dishes “soaking” for a suspiciously long time, or perhaps you’re still rocking that questionable fashion choice from 2008. Whatever it is, we hope our plants don’t notice… right?

    But what if they do? What if, beneath that placid exterior of verdant leaves and vibrant blooms, our houseplants are silently judging our every move?

    The Curious Case of the Dramatic Droop

    It all started innocently enough. I brought home a beautiful fiddle leaf fig, its leaves a symphony of emerald green. I envisioned us as the perfect pair: me, the responsible plant parent, and Ferdinand (yes, I named him), the thriving symbol of my domesticity.

    Oh, how naive I was.

    The first hint of judgment came after a particularly chaotic week. Work deadlines collided with social obligations, leaving little time for anything else, let alone plant care. I walked into my apartment, exhausted but triumphant, only to be greeted by Ferdinand’s dramatic droop.

    Ferdinand with attention (and a generous amount of water). And, just as quickly as he’d wilted, he perked back up. But the suspicion lingered. Could it be mere coincidence, or was this a subtle sign of disapproval?

    My Plant Hates My Cooking: The Suspiciously Timed Sneeze

    As the weeks went by, I couldn’t shake the feeling that Ferdinand was onto me. He seemed to develop a knack for “conveniently” wilting at the most embarrassing moments.

    Like the time I was attempting to impress a date with my (alleged) culinary skills. Just as I was describing my “famous” spaghetti carbonara (read: pasta with scrambled eggs), Ferdinand chose that exact moment to dramatically shed a leaf.

  • 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 Newly Minted Plant Parent

    My descent into plant parenthood began innocently enough. It was a chilly afternoon, and I was browsing my local nursery, ostensibly for herbs to liven up my cooking. Then, my eyes met hers – a majestic Monstera Deliciosa, its leaves unfurling like verdant sculptures. “She’d look stunning in my living room,” I thought, completely forgetting about the rosemary I’d come for.

    Fast forward a few months, and my apartment looked like a jungle rave gone wrong. I’d acquired a veritable menagerie of leafy companions, each with its own personality and care requirements (who knew?). I’d become fluent in the language of drooping leaves and brown spots, and my Google search history was a litany of panicked queries like “Why is my cactus turning yellow?!” and “Can plants sense fear?”

    Turns out, being a plant parent isn’t just about watering your leafy roommates every now and then. It’s a crash course in botany, a lesson in patience, and a constant negotiation with Mother Nature. It’s also, as I’ve learned, governed by a set of unspoken rules.

    The Joys (and Quirks) of Plant Naming and Rituals

    One of the first things you learn as a plant parent is that every plant needs a name. It doesn’t matter if it’s a delicate fern or a prickly cactus, giving it a name is a rite of passage. Bonus points for creativity – my personal favorites include a peace lily named Serenity Now and a spider plant aptly christened Legolas.

    Then there are the rituals. You’ll find yourself developing a specific watering schedule, complete with pep talks (“You got this, Philodendron!”) and maybe even a dedicated playlist for your green gang (Motown seems to do the trick for mine). Don’t be surprised if you catch yourself talking to your plants, either. It’s perfectly normal, I swear. In fact, some studies suggest that talking to your plants can actually help them grow! (Or maybe that’s just me justifying my one-sided conversations with a Fiddle Leaf Fig named Ferdinand.)

    A close-up shot of a healthy plant with vibrant green leaves.