Bugs down, bottoms up

First off, please stop being stubborn and enter the giveaway!  Last chance!

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I think I've hurdled the hump of gardening.  I've never been a gardener, but always wished that I was.  My dad has a great garden with tomatoes and onions and carrots and strawberries and a peach tree- and that's just mentioning the edible stuff.  His flowers and bushes are beautiful and he and my mom put in lots of time and effort for their garden.  I always imagined that is how owning a home would be for me too.  (cut Somewhere Over the Rainbow)  We have deer that eat anything other than hydrangeas and some other flower that I forget, the plants that I try to raise die, and most importantly I've always been afraid of bugs.  My summertime punishment growing up was to weed the garden.  Being afraid of bugs made that job hell.  Deep sea diving with sharks sans cage sounded better.  (not that it was an option)

So I'm still on that faux homeschooling mother earth is wondaful mom kick.  Which means the girls and I are outside a lot; which means I'm trying to point out the extraordinary in the ordinary; which means I kinda semi have to get down and dirty; which means BUGS.  Ants are the only things that are okay.  Butterflies are OUT so don't mention it.  One is fluttering by you and you think, okay, I'll dodge it and go to the left and vroom it goes to the left and then you're like, oh 'scuse me, I'll go to the right and bam they're aiming for your face then you're like OH SHIT EVERYONE HIT THE DECK and that's when it decides to land on that beautiful butterfly infested lilac bush right outside your front door.  They all get scared and you realize you're in butterfly hell because now they're all flying in everywhichway direction and really all butterflies are are really juicy hairy caterpillars that fly.  And you know how insects can manage to squeeze through anything well you can only imagine Oh! The Places They'll go! like up or down your pants.

So like I was saying I've had to act brave and courageous around all creatures of God so my girls may not end up as neurotic as I.  Lo and behold, it worked!  Acting courageous made me courageous.  So today I confidently put on my new (read: what I bought last year and never opened) gardening gloves and started pulling weeds like they was nobody biznit.

My next hurdle: Overcoming the inevitable 'initiation to motherhood' pose: