Thursday, October 8, 2009


Clovers are my silent friends, spread across the back yard like a rash, and still I love them. I haven't always had affections for weeds. I was once a Rose or Lilly girl. Pick me up in your clean car wearing your pressed shirt and take me somewhere nice. Beer, if the wine list mocks our modest budget. Then pave the way to kisses with daisies. But clover? No.

Then we went and made mini versions of ourselves and let them run around our backyard. We killed the clover, but we let the barefoot noise makers stay. We like them. Mostly. The first spring Husband was not quick enough to head off the clover onslaught our first born waded through the patches before I could stop him.
Bees, oh God. The bees.
My husband bloats at the mere whiff of them. I didn't want to conduct a home science experiment to see if my son would react the same way. I ran out after him, picked him up and tried to pull the fistfuls of clover out of his hands. "No! Mummy pretty flowers for you. I wuv you."

Suddenly roses paled in comparison.

We still spray the clover, but every spring my little boys beat us to at least one patch and ignore my objections to their shoeless wandering as they pad barefoot through the clover mound.

And every spring there will be at least one small vase stuffed with wilting clover beside my bed.
Isaiah calls them Mummy's favorite flowers.
I don't correct him...

I may one day have to explain why his girlfriend curled her lip and growled,
but not yet.

They are my clovers. For just a little bit longer.


  1. Awww, that's so sweet! I esp. know how you feel because my five year old has started picking me flowers. Almost every day he'll bring one up to me. :-) These little boys are sure charmers, aren't they?

  2. I remember the days my little ones used to pick me flowers. Cherish every moment.

  3. That's sweet! Mine used to bring me dandelions :) I had my foot stung walking through the clover this summer, it's too bad they hang out in there.

  4. Wow, I'm tearing up a bit. Don't have little ones of my own, so I love to hear people's stories about their kids. Thanks!

  5. Beautifully written! It's amazing what flowers can do to brighten someone's day. They can just be plucked from the roadside, doesn't matter. It's the thought.

  6. Crikey that's cute :D I'm with Susan, make the most of every second, those little clovers don't last anywhere long enough.

    My daughter used to like to pick me dandelions that had gone to seed and would cry when all the fairies fell off. It was so sweet :)

    My son used to bring me blossoms from the trees and would say "here ith a beeootifuw fower for you Mama." it was so cute :)

  7. How unbelievably sweet. My guess is you won't have to worry about the girlfriend. Clovers will only be for Mommy. And that's the way it should be.

    Straight From Hel

  8. You really got to me with this one. For some reason my two sons used to bring me rocks. When I was packing last June my daughter, (she's 10 years younger), asked me why we were packing rocks. When I hold those rocks I see and feel my sons little again. And so I keep them close.

  9. Elizabeth, you nearly had me tearing with this comment. I love rocks too. I will have to post about rocks and I soon

    Helen, I hope so :)

    Wendy= dandelions and fairies, ooh love that :)

  10. Steph- thank you :)
    Tere- Welcome.

    Susan, thank you, I will :)

    Jess, yes, charmers :)

  11. So lovely, Tab. You had me sniffling, and I don't even have kids yet. For some reason maternal sentiments always make me cry. I don't know why. Probably why I was one of the few people that loved Breaking Dawn and cried through the last 200 pages... That kind of thing gets me every time.

    My little brother always had a thing for little piece of shells on the beach. Even at the lake, he would find little shiny rocks and call them shells, then give them to my mother and me. We also have a lot of rose quartz in the dirt around here, and he loved to pick up those "shells" in the driveway. So cute!

    It's funny the way kids choose to show their affection. It's very rarely in the way adults would expect, so it's always just perfect.


  12. Thank you Tara :) I love what you shared about your little brother. So sweet.

  13. "Imperfectly perfect life" is a perfect label for this post. What a sweet story, you sure have an awesome son there!

  14. I love the way you tell a story. The smell of clover speaks summer freedom to me, bees and all.