Just Relaxed Blog

Tag: plant newbie

  • The Unexpected Life Lessons I Learned From a Houseplant

    The Unexpected Life Lessons I Learned From a Houseplant





    We’ve all been there. You’re wandering the aisles of your local home improvement store, desperately seeking the perfect shade of “greige” paint, when suddenly, you lock eyes. It’s not a charming salesperson offering unsolicited advice this time, but a vibrant, leafy friend silently pleading, “Take me home!” Okay, maybe I’m projecting a bit, but that’s how it went down when I met Ferdinand the Fern.

    Fern-tastic Expectations and Epic Plant Parent Fails

    I, like many others, am a sucker for the idea of being a “plant parent.” It sounds so mature, so responsible. Gone are the days of accidentally killing succulents (RIP, Steve the Succulent). This time, I was determined to succeed. I envisioned a lush, green oasis thriving in my living room, a testament to my newfound nurturing abilities.

    life on the edge. One minute he’d be drooping dramatically, the next he’d be as perky as a cheerleader on game day. I was constantly second-guessing myself. Was he thirsty? Too much sun? Not enough sun? Did I accidentally compliment his foliage in the wrong tone of voice? (Yes, I may have reached peak plant lady paranoia.)

    From Brown Thumb to Budding Botanist: Finding Growth Through Setbacks

    Just as I was about to throw in the trowel (figuratively, of course, I’m not a monster), something amazing happened. Ferdinand sprouted a new leaf! It was small, delicate, and undeniably green. I was ecstatic! All those weeks of fretting, misting, and rotating him like a disco ball had paid off.

    That’s when it hit me: Life, much like taking care of a houseplant, is all about trial and error. Sometimes you’ll overwater, sometimes you’ll forget to fertilize, and sometimes, despite your best efforts, things will wilt. But then, just when you’re about to give up hope, a tiny sprout of progress emerges, reminding you that even in the midst of setbacks, growth is always possible.

    Learning Patience and Perseverance: The Root of the Matter

    Ferdinand may not be the most low-maintenance roommate (seriously, that fern can be dramatic), but he’s taught me more about patience, perseverance, and the beauty of small victories than I ever anticipated. He’s also a constant reminder that even when life throws shade (pun intended), there’s always a reason to keep growing.

  • Confessions of a Recovering Plant Killer (and Why You Should Totally Join the Club)

    Confessions of a Recovering Plant Killer (and Why You Should Totally Join the Club)



    From Black Thumb to Proud Plant Parent

    Okay, confession time. I used to be a notorious plant killer. Like, give-me-a-cactus-and-I’d-find-a-way-to-dehydrate-it kind of plant killer. My thumbs were anything but green. Then, something magical happened. I adopted a sad-looking peace lily from the grocery store clearance aisle. It was a total impulse buy, fueled by a potent mix of coffee and the delusional belief that this time would be different.

    And you know what? It was.

    That peace lily, bless its resilient little heart, not only survived but thrived under my care. That’s when I realized that being a plant parent wasn’t just about keeping something green alive—it was about the unexpected joys that came with it.

    plant parent is like that, but on a whole other level. Every new leaf unfurling, every bloom that bursts open, feels like a personal victory.

    And you better believe I document every milestone. My camera roll is basically a plant photoshoot waiting to happen. “Oh, you got a promotion? That’s cool. My monstera just sprouted TWO new leaves!”

    But seriously, there’s something incredibly rewarding about nurturing another living thing and watching it flourish. It’s like having a tiny, silent roommate who communicates solely through growth spurts and the occasional dramatic leaf droop (more on that later).

    Joy #2: Embracing Your Inner Plant Whisperer (and the Occasional Crisis Aversion)

    Before becoming a plant parent, I never thought I’d be the type to have full-blown conversations with inanimate objects. Now? I’m basically fluent in plant.

    • “Hmm, your leaves are looking a little droopy. Thirsty?” Waters generously
    • “Oh, you’re leaning towards the window? You must be craving some sunshine!” Strategically repositions plant for optimal light exposure

    It’s amazing how quickly you learn to read the subtle cues of your plant children. And let me tell you, the sense of accomplishment when you diagnose a problem (is it overwatering? Underwatering? Pest infestation?) and successfully nurse your plant back to health? Pure. Gold.

    Plus, there’s the added bonus of developing a superhuman ability to spot a spider mite from a mile away. Trust me, your non-plant parent friends will be amazed (and slightly terrified) by your newfound skills.

  • Confessions of a Recovering Plant Killer (and Why You Should Totally Join My Green Cult)

    Confessions of a Recovering Plant Killer (and Why You Should Totally Join My Green Cult)

    Discover the unexpected joys of being a plant parent, from the zen of watering to the thrill of new growth. Yes, even you can keep a plant alive (probably)!

    From Black Thumb to Proud Plant Parent

    Okay, friends, gather ’round. Let me tell you a tale—a tale of a chronic plant killer (that’s me!) turned unlikely plant whisperer. You see, I used to think that keeping a houseplant alive was akin to performing open-heart surgery… on a cactus. My track record? Let’s just say the local compost bin knew me by name.

    But then, something magical happened. A friend gifted me a resilient little ZZ plant (a.k.a. the plant that laughs in the face of neglect). And guess what? It survived! Not only did it survive, but it actually thrived under my less-than-expert care. That’s when I realized something profound: maybe, just maybe, I wasn’t completely hopeless after all.

    The Zen of Watering (No, Seriously!)

    Fast forward to today, and I’m the proud parent to a whole jungle of leafy companions. And let me tell you, there are some seriously unexpected joys to this whole plant parent thing.

    First up: the zen of watering. I know, I know, sounds boring, right? But hear me out. There’s something incredibly therapeutic about gently showering your plants, watching the water trickle down the leaves, knowing you’re giving them the life-giving elixir they crave. It’s like a mini meditation session, but with less chanting and more leafy goodness.

    Plus, have you ever stuck your nose in a pot of freshly watered herbs? Talk about aromatherapy on demand! Seriously, move over, lavender oil, there’s a new scent-sation in town.

    The Thrill of New Growth (It’s Like Christmas Morning, But Greener)

    But the real magic? The absolute best part of being a plant parent? It’s that moment when you spot a new leaf unfurling, reaching for the sky like a tiny green fist bump. It’s pure, unadulterated joy, my friends.

    Suddenly, you’re not just a responsible adult who remembers to pay their bills on time (most of the time). You’re a miracle worker! A plant whisperer! You, my friend, have officially defied the odds and kept another living thing alive. Cue the victory dance!

    And the best part is, these little victories happen all the time. New leaves, new stems, even new roots poking out of the drainage holes (always a welcome surprise!). It’s like Christmas morning, but instead of presents, you get tiny bundles of chlorophyll. And honestly, what’s not to love about that?

    Ready to Become a Plant Parent?

    Look, I get it. Becoming a plant parent can seem intimidating. But trust me, it’s so much easier (and more rewarding) than you think. Start small, choose forgiving plants, and don’t be afraid to ask for help (or consult the all-knowing Google).

    Because once you experience the joy of nurturing another living thing, of watching it grow and thrive under your care, you’ll understand what it truly means to be a plant parent. And trust me, you won’t want to go back.

    So, what are you waiting for? Grab yourself a plant (or five!), and join the wonderful, wacky world of plant parenthood. We’re waiting for you!

  • Confessions of a Recovering Plant Killer (and Why You Should Totally Join the Club)

    Confessions of a Recovering Plant Killer (and Why You Should Totally Join the Club)

    From near-death experiences to surprising triumphs, discover the unexpected joys (and hilarious fails) of becoming a plant parent. You might just find yourself inspired to join the club!

    From Black Thumb to Proud Plant Parent

    Let’s be honest, I wasn’t always a friend to foliage. In fact, I had a long and embarrassing history of accidental plant homicide. My thumbs weren’t just black, they were practically shrouded in a dark, plant-killing aura. Succulents? More like succulents-to-mush in my care. Peace lilies? They anything BUT peaceful.

    But then something changed. Maybe it was the pandemic, maybe it was a surge in my age, or maybe (just maybe) it was the adorable baby cactus my friend gifted me, but I decided to give this whole plant parenting thing another shot. And let me tell you, it’s been a wild, hilarious, and surprisingly fulfilling ride.

    The Unexpected Thrill of Witnessing New Growth

    Friends, there’s something incredibly satisfying about nurturing another living thing (especially when you have a track record like mine). When my stubborn ZZ plant finally sprouted a new, glossy leaf after months of what I can only describe as “playing dead,” I may have actually squealed with delight. I even sent photos to my long-suffering friends with the caption, “SHE LIVES!” (They were, understandably, both terrified and slightly concerned for my sanity).

    But that’s the thing about plants – they teach you patience. They remind you that growth takes time, and sometimes, the most rewarding things in life are the ones we wait for. Plus, that feeling of “I kept something alive!” is surprisingly addictive.

    Plants: The Quirky Roommates You Never Knew You Needed

    Here’s the thing about plant parenthood: it’s not just about keeping something alive; it’s about adding a touch of life, personality, and yes, even humor, to your space. My plants have become my quirky, silent roommates. I swear my spider plant is judging my questionable life choices, and my peace lily dramatically wilts every time I forget to water it for a few days (drama queen!).

    But even their little quirks bring me joy. They remind me that life doesn’t have to be perfect to be beautiful. Plus, they make for excellent conversation starters. Nothing breaks the ice like telling a guest, “Don’t mind Philodendron Phil, he’s just a little dramatic.”

    So, Are You Ready to Join the Plant Parent Club?

    Look, I get it. Taking care of a plant might seem intimidating, especially if you’ve got a history like mine. But trust me, the rewards far outweigh the risks. You might discover a hidden talent, a newfound appreciation for nature, or maybe, just maybe, a new best friend who doesn’t judge your messy bun and love of reality TV (unless it’s a peace lily, then all bets are off).

    So, what are you waiting for? Go forth and get your plant on!

  • The Unexpected Life Lessons I Learned From a Houseplant

    The Unexpected Life Lessons I Learned From a Houseplant



    My Brown Thumb Redemption Arc (Or So I Thought)

    Let’s be honest, I’m about as good at keeping plants alive as I am at understanding cryptocurrency. My past attempts at plant parenthood resulted in more casualties than a low-budget action flick. So, you can imagine the surprised looks (and maybe a little side-eye) when I announced I was adopting a houseplant. “It’s going to be different this time,” I declared, armed with a shiny new watering can and a healthy dose of optimism (delusion?).

    Plant‘s Best Friends

    My first plant-parenting hurdle? Understanding that plants, unlike my social media feed, don’t thrive on instant gratification. This little green roommate, which I affectionately named Ferdinand, didn’t magically sprout new leaves overnight just because I spritzed him with water and whispered words of encouragement (don’t judge). It turns out, patience is key. And sunlight. Lots of sunlight, which my apartment, sadly, lacked.

    After weeks of watching Ferdinand stubbornly refuse to grow an inch, I finally caved and consulted the internet (aka, the plant parent’s best friend). Turns out, I’d been keeping him in a dimly lit corner, mistaking his dramatic wilting for thirst. Who knew plants were such drama queens?

    So, I moved Ferdinand to a sun-drenched windowsill, apologized profusely for my ignorance, and vowed to be a better plant parent. Slowly but surely, he perked up, even gifting me with a tiny new leaf. I swear, I almost cried. The moral of the story? Sometimes, all it takes is a little patience, a lot of sunshine, and the willingness to admit you don’t know everything (still working on that last one).

    Lesson 2: Overthinking and Overwatering: A Recipe for Disaster

    Now, you’d think after the Great Sunlight Debacle of 2023 (yes, it was that dramatic), I would have learned my lesson about overthinking things. But alas, I am a creature of habit. So, when Ferdinand’s leaves started to droop slightly, I panicked.

    “He needs water!” my inner plant-killer screamed. “Drown him in love (and H2O)!”

    Ignoring the voice of reason (and the helpful moisture meter I’d bought), I proceeded to shower Ferdinand with enough water to irrigate a small desert. Unsurprisingly, this did not end well. A few days later, my once-thriving plant friend was looking decidedly worse for wear, his leaves yellowing at the edges. Cue the frantic Googling and the sinking realization that I’d committed the cardinal sin of plant parenthood: overwatering.