The Hosta Tears

I realized last night that unlike some friends of ours I really haven't had too much to journal about! I'll never forget, however, a little fit I had over a hosta one warm May weekend. Andrew and I were moving some of the over crowded (What! we have a couple too many plants!! Never!) hosta from the front landscaping to the back deck landscaping. We had done quite a few other things outside that day, so I was pretty tired. I crawled under the deck to help him cut and pull back the weed cloth and then properly pack the dirt in around the transplanted hosta. When I had run out of dirt to pack around the plant I remember focusing on the bucket of dirt, but was unable to completely verbalize that I needed him to dump some near the plant. In hindsight "Honey, a little more dirt right here" really doesn't sound like that much effort. At that moment it was for me. I said something vague like "more dirt" and he felt I could reach the bucket; but the bucket was too heavy and I knew I shouldn't reach or try to move it and I was all crouched down and my knees hurt, my back was tight, I was thirsty, tired...so what else does a pregnant woman do? Cry, so I did. "I'm doing the best I can; just get me some dirt over here. What else do you want from me?" Sweet hubby is thinking - for you to just tell me what you need?! So that hosta had some good salty water falling on it and the tears just felt so good coming down I just let them flow on out! And big hugs to my hubby - he didn't give me flack (which I so deserved) he just gave me some dirt, sighed and went about his landscaping. Best pregnant husband ever!