I hate gardening. Today I finally planted those darn tulips my dad so graciously gave to me at the end of summer. I have been putting it off for a long time. Too long. As I tossed piles of dirt into the pots, piles of guilt rested on my shoulders. Shouldn't every stay-at-home-mom love gardening? I should be planting and canning vegetables and fruits and making my yard beautiful at the same time. I ought to love digging in the dirt, discovering worms and passing on the joy to my children. Nope. I don't and now, in front of God and everybody, I'm making it official. I am giving up the dream (note to my husband: I guess that means it's your job...you already keep the grass looking so nice and my one plant watered in the house...thank you...now I'll give you my plans for the rest of the yard).