stories of the Mix family lovin' the country life

Monday, June 27, 2011

(Now I know you're really not supposed to prune a rose bush until it's done blooming, but mine had a lot of dead growth that needed to be cut away.)

To Prune a Rose Bush

1. Gather pruning shears, gloves, and rubber boots. Call out, "C'mon, kids! Let's go outside."

2. Help kids find (and put on) their shoes.

3. Make 1-2 snips with the shears and realize Elizabeth is throwing flowers, mulch, and dirt from the flower bed into the yard.

4. Call out, "Elizabeth! You don't touch Mommy's flowers!"

5. Make a couple more snips. Realize the sun is now shining directly on the baby's legs; adjust the sun shade on his baby seat.

6. Call out, "Elizabeth! I told you to leave Mommy's flowers alone." Walk over to porch, get her toddler wagon, and show her how to pick clover and put it in her wagon. "See? Now you can be just like Mommy!"

7. Make another snip. "Elizabeth, stop! Abbey, show Elizabeth how to put grass in her wagon."

8. "Elizabeth Rose!" Think to self, "Maybe food would keep her

occupied." Walk to house, take off boots, make quick lunch for girls to eat outside, put boots back on, walk back to rose bush, adjust baby's shade, and make another snip.

9. "Elizabeth!" (more like a groan this time) "I think it's nap time. Everybody in the house." Get everybody down for their naps. Go back outside with the baby. Prepare to get some real work accomplished. Baby wakes up and wants to be fed. Tell yourself, "I think that's enough for now..."

...And that's why my "after" picture is really just my "halfway done" picture. (smile)

1 comment:

  1. I love your blog, Hannah. I didn't know you had one! I also appreciated the poem you posted in your family history. I think I'd seen it once before but needed to see it again. I am on the mission field, but even I struggle with guilt (probably from the devil) of not being able to be out witnessing to people all the time like my husband. It was good to have my ministry put back into perspective and know I am right where I am supposed to be . . . in my home most of the time.