Wednesday, May 18, 2011

Miscommunication

I've gone a little flower crazy.

I love flowers and I used to love to garden. In an attempt to put a little more balance in my life, I decided to create a giant flower bed. It previously ended right in front of those bushes to the right. I took it to the tree. (I foresee a water feature of some kind in that bare spot.)

I also built this landscape wall, which if you're friends with me on Facebook, you saw me brag about share my pride. Lots of flowers here too, and a pink dogwood tree.

And my front porch, several pots of flowers, surely to be joined by more after my trip next week.

So now my house looks like a greenhouse nursery, which makes me really happy. I can look out my office window and see all those blooms between the bushes and the trees. But with this change in the landscape, we've learned something new about Emma.

Emma loves flowers.

I guess I knew this already. I always have to plan an extra five minutes into our walk to pick up Jenna from school so Emma can stop and pick clover flowers and dandelions. Who knew all that innocent flower picking could cause widespread devastation?

>>cue ominous music<<

Where have all the flowers gone?

What did this poor plant do to loose all it's MULTIPLE blooms?


To be fair, how was Emma to know? I didn't specifically tell her not to pick the flowers and how is it any different than our daily, every other day, a couple of times a week walks?

After a minor freak out (one of my finer moments, to be sure) I explained to her that these flowers were supposed to be looked at and not picked. If we picked them, we wouldn't have lots of pretty flowers in our yard. It took a couple of times outside for the rule to sink in, a rule that she now helps enforce with neighbor kids.

Next Tuesday is Ryan and Emma's last day of preschool. This is actually on the radar of my attention because I'm going to New York City next week and I won't be here for it. Big brother Ross is in charge of the kids part of the week, a babysitter over the weekend. In any case, I'm trying to figure out who needs to be where and when while I'm gone so I can make a detailed list. Ross already feels a bit overwhelmed by his responsibilities, I figured I'd save him an item and send the teacher's gifts on Thursday.

Which meant I had to get their presents before 2:00 Thursday afternoon when I picked Emma and Ryan up. (You think I jest. Trust me, I've been known to be that late to the game.) You can only imagine the immense pride and satisfaction I felt realizing the need for gifts on Wednesday morning. (Go me!) But what to get? Gift cards would have been easy but less personal and I wanted their teachers to know how much we'll miss them. I mean, obviously you only have to look at my children's mugshots to see how happy they've been this year.*

*Not an accurate representation.

Since Ryan and Emma loved helping me plant flowers and we needed a morning activity, I decided we'd make pots of flowers for their teachers. I'd let the kids pick out which flowers they wanted then we'd come home and plant.

We got Jenna off to school and I was checking email when I told Emma that we were going to go pick out some flowers for her teachers.

"No, Mommy. You said I couldn't get my teachers flowers."

"No, it's okay. We're going to go get some after Ryan gets dressed."

Five minutes later, Ross who'd just emerged from his cave (also know as his room in the basement) said, "Uh oh."

Any parent knows those two nonsense syllables will instantly stop your heart.

I looked up and there was Emma holding these.


It could have been worse. She could have cut down the dogwood tree.

3 comments:

Jill from Killeny Glen said...

Denise!! You did NOT tell Emma NOT to pick the flowers!!!
It does look beautiful round your house!!!

LAUGHING! :)

Beth said...

Oh Denise..Emma sure likes to provoke you! So did you get the teacher gifts made? lol

Mary, Martin, Maggie and Mickey said...

Mickey does the same. I'm always torn between wanting to clobber him, and total delight that my little boy wants to bring his mummy some flowers.