So yesterday morning, I decided not to go torture myself at the gym. Instead, I took my time before a busy day started and spent some quality time in the garden. I have about 8 rose bushes out in front of my house that I’m really proud of. I’ve paid them just enough attention that they’re doing well. But, Japanese beetles and other little pests need to live too, and they’ve found my roses. So while I was deadheading the old blooms and watering them, I realized it would be best to spray them for bugs.

Note: I did not think about using pesticides being an issue since I’m pregnant, but when I finished quickly went inside and showered. Since then, of course, helpful people have been aghast and now I’ll avoid them. #whoknew

So I went along, watering my healthy happy plants and then spraying them by covering every leaf purposefully and dutifully. I was congratulating myself on how well they’d grown when I finished up and looked at the spray container and realized…. It was weed killer. 

Now, it’s not SUPPOSED to hurt non-weed plants, but I HAD just covered my dear sweet roses in poison.

A helpful suggestion after the fact was “if there are no plants, there will be no bugs at least!”

But, I didn’t panic. I thought “oh, silly me. Now I’ll go wash all these off and see about using the right stuff instead.” Because, really, they’re just plants. If they all die a horrible sizzling death, I’ll plant something else. 

Normally, I’m not sure this would be my response. I laughed at myself and thought “yeah the big BLACK container should’ve tipped me off – next time RED is for roses.” 

So I showered off the flowers, sprayed bug spray, and headed off to the back yard.

Later that day, my mother laughed. She said welcome to parenthood “oh I’m doing such a great job” then suddenly, disaster hits. I suppose I know that – that no one is perfect, that we’re all just doing our best. But yesterday somehow gave me some hope – maybe I can remain calm in minor crises.

Or, maybe, I’ll be buying all new roses this spring.