My Little Flower Girl

Every day Baby Bug gets smarter and smarter. I can’t believe that humans develop so quickly. I have this sneaking suspicion that she’s starting to understand what I’m saying and I can’t get away with all the mindless babble any more.

We go for walks and I tell her about all the flowers we pass. I’m secretly plotting that she will know all her flower names by the time she’s three. Those other kids can know their colors and numbers but my baby is going to know the difference between Mexican sage and lavender. Who knows maybe she’ll be a botanist.

We always stop to admire the roses. There are a lot of white roses on our path. Sometimes I pull a long branch down toward her and she lifts her nose like she’s trying to smell them. But I really think she thinks I’m offering it to her to taste. Sometimes I forget to stop at a particular rose that we’ve stopped at every day for the last three weeks or so. When this happens she pulls sideways and strains towards the rose, quickly reminding me that we missed a stopping spot. So I retrace my steps and let her smell her rose.

Today on our evening walk to the park for one last push in the baby swing, we walked by a big rose bush with bright salmon colored roses lit up by the setting sun. I didn’t even notice them. I was too busy looking at the ground or thinking about who I was going to call on my cell phone or something. Suddenly Baby Bug started jumping up and down in her baby carrier and lifting her arms up into the air. I thought maybe she had seen a bird or something so I looked up to see what she was so excited about. And there it was. Two big explosions of orange against the periwinkle twilight sky, like tangerine popscicles against dark shadowy ice… it was beautiful.

My daughter, already she warms my heart.


  • Gramma

    I do believe it’s in the genes. Your great-grandmother, Margaret Stritehoff White had a way with annuals (they always bloomed profusely for her). Her husband “P.D.” (short for Percy Dickson) White had the most wonderful roses in town. They lined the path in the back yard, either side. He would prepare a bouquet of choice blooms and present them to his current customer after lunch. He was a tinsmith and did roofing. Gradma’s duty was to run out to the street with the coal bucket and little shovel to gather up the horse droppings. P.D. made a “tea” with the collection and fed each of his rose plants a portion every Saturday. “GG” had a wonderful old fashioned garden that she kept immaculate. Maybe baby bug will like to get dirt under her fingernails too.

  • Lyndsay

    Baby Bug is the most darling little girl. Those pictures of her and the fall leaves or her on the beach are just darling! Just de-lurking to tell you what you already know – how precious she is. I found you through Whoorl’s blog. Have a great weekend!

  • gretchen

    Maybe it’s too early in the morning for me (6:30 am in Ohio) or I’m feeling sentimental (my birthday was yesterday), but this post made me start to cry! I love to take walks with my son (2.5 years) and he often points something out to me that I didn’t see. It’s so awesome that you’re teaching your daughter to literally stop and smell the roses, and you’re starting to realize all the things SHE is going to teach YOU too. Have a great weekend!

  • aunt kathy

    Teach her the names of the roses too! But keep it up because she’ll forget soon enough. I taught LK the names of birds as a baby and she knew them as we read Eloise Wilkins book but as she got older Cardinal became “bird” because that book got put on the back shelf for a while only to be brought out again when her siblings were born.

    Isn’t it neat to see her so aware!?

    GG had a beautiful rose garden as well as a beautiful old fashioned flower garden.