I’m living proof that the old adage suggesting that one should get a plant and a pet before having a baby is terrible advice. While my 2-year-old is thriving, I’ve had much less success keeping my plants alive. Despite my black thumb rap sheet, I got sucked into the vortex of the fiddle leaf fig tree trend. I blame it on the gigantic leaves and all of the Instagram conditioning – they make every room look better, right?
After nearly a year of obsessive plant nurturing behavior that included dusting its leaves, bathing it in our bathtub, and leaving the curtains drawn before heading out to work (for optimal light exposure), I began to notice brown spots. After the brown spots arrived, the leaves began to slowly fall. I panicked, which didn’t help the situation. I watered less, then watered more. I moved the plant from one spot to the next. I pruned (with kitchen scissors, but still). And at rock bottom, I ripped off the few remaining leaves while releasing a warrior cry. We were over.