Forcing the Bloom

Happy, Healthy Mommy Blog

Forcing the Bloom

So where does the name “Forcing the Bloom” come from?  As I continue on this journey of motherhood, I can’t help but remember my childhood and my mother’s stories about her childhood.  This story begins with a Rose…

There were once three rose bushes that sat beside our backyard deck.  I do not recall that they thrived exactly.  But they refused to die.  Roses are hearty like that.  My mother was constantly pruning them back until eventually they were gone.  My mother’s name is Rose.  The roses had been planted because my father promised her a rose garden (it’s an old song – “I never promised you a rose garden”).  To me, and I have nothing against roses, the rose bushes seemed defiant and haggard.  I know they can be beautiful in large quantities, but these bushes were not so lucky.  Unlike any good flower, they refused to be beautiful until betrayed by their bloom.  They rejected beauty with thorns, thick stems and spiked leaves.  They sent clear warnings to the world.  Do not touch.  “We prefer to be left alone.”  They barely moved in the wind and showed no trace of exhaustion in the summer.  Winter storms could do nothing to unmotivated their growth in the spring.  Even without water, they held their ground.  They were, of course, hacked back into submission as soon as they caught some momentum because their wildness was constantly at the ready to take hold and run uncontrolled across the yard.  They probably smelled wonderful but I have no sense of smell (seriously).

One spring, when I was still more aware of my surroundings than myself, the rose bushes caught my fascination.  Most of the roses sat closed-lipped, patiently waiting for the bloom.  I reasoned that I could help it along by forcing it open.  I shoved my finger into the center of the bud and worked at prying the petals apart.  I’m not sure how many more I got through before my mother caught me.  I remember her trying to explain that the buds could not be forced open until they were ready to bloom.  Even more frustrating, there was no way for us to know when they were ready to bloom.  I’m sure I watched for a while, hoping to see the bloom before giving up and finding something else to torment.  The lesson, however, stuck with me to this day.  YOU CAN’T FORCE THE BLOOM.  The rose is a metaphor for life.  I always asking myself:  Am I still trying to “force the bloom”?  Or am I waiting patiently for spring?

Mommy and Baby!


Mommy and Baby

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12 thoughts on “Forcing the Bloom

  1. Love! 🙂 Look forward to reading more in the future.

  2. What a great story. It is so hard to stay in the present sometimes, and just be grateful for what is. Great metaphor of the Rose. I really like that.

  3. Love this bio write-up! Looks like we are in the same industry. I also left practice two years back when i got married, to go in-house 🙂

  4. For now. I hope that I NEED an office next year! 🙂

  5. I have nominated you for the Liebster Award. To accept, please visit:

  6. Hey Adrienne! I didn’t know you blogged! I do too, ut as you know, my boss keeps me too busy to write for myself most days. 🙂 Hope you are doing well!

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