In my perfect little world, which exists only in my head, I spend all day every Saturday playing in my garden. The weather is always a perfectly sunny 75 degrees, with a gentle breeze blowing from the West and making the windchimes dance.

I start by cleaning the pond, and it's a simple task devoid of any rocks falling into the water, fish freaking me out by swimming up to my arm and making fishy faces, and pockets of stinky black muck coming up through the siphon.

There are no weeds to pull in this perfect little scenario, but there are over-zealous perennials trying to take over the world. There are so many of them that once I'm done cleaning the pond, I have no choice but to spend a few hours transplanting healthy chunks of happy perennials to new parts of the yard.

I never run out of space for new plants, and every single one is vigorous and healthy. The only insects I encounter are a few friendly spiders and maybe a couple of cute little ladybugs.

It's a perfect little day in my perfect little garden, full of ample time to sit on the stained concrete bench and gaze at the pond, while drinking in the pleasant scents of roses and alyssum.

In reality, I get maybe an hour per month to play in my garden. I spend my hour rushing to prune, feverishly trying to get the pond cleanish, and pretending not to see the weeds and pesty insects that are everywhere. It's a damage control sort of hour, not at all an enjoyment sort of hour.

Of course, the reason for all this is Alexis. As much as I adore her, and I do, she is a giant ball of time-suck. Her refusal to sit on the bench and enjoy the garden like I want her to is often the reason I end up giving up on trying to watch her and work in the garden at the same time. I mean, not even duct tape can help with the situation.

After three years of neglecting the garden in lieu of keeping the kid happy and entertained, I've decided to fight fire with fire. Or, to be more exact, to fight fire with zinnias.

Enter, the seedlings.

Alexis and I worked together to carefully plant a couple of packs of flower seeds last week. I am hoping that by getting her involved early in the process, she will maintain some sort of level of interest for more than ten minutes.

So far, so good. Alexis has asked if her flowers have finished growing yet at least 4,682,894 times in the past week. She constantly walks over to them to lift the little greenhouse lid and check on them. She nags me daily that they need water, or sun, or a kiss.

She even talks to them.

Here's to hoping I at least get a chance to put mulch out this year. I'm pretty sure the hydrangeas would appreciate it.