If you give a mouse a cookie...

Alternate title to this post: Why people with ADHD shouldn't garden.

Last month, we were perusing the local hardware store when Mark spotted an outdoor fountain.

"Look at this, Mom!" he said, excitedly. "This would look good in our backyard!"

It was a couple hundred dollars, but I agreed it would look cool. I congratulated the kid on a great find, loaded it onto the cart, and took it home.

I wanted to set it up right away, but I had one issue--a giant fake-banana plant that consumed half the yard. It took up so much space, there was no room for the new fountain.

No big whoop, I thought. I called a gardener to come take out the tree (which was seriously huge). He agreed, then flaked and never showed up.

No big whoop, I thought again. Who needs a gardener? I can do this. I armed myself with saws, hedge clippers, and bags, and went after that tree myself.

After two weekends of hacking (and Mark complaining about picking up the branches), I was closer, but not done. The bottom part of the tree, with all its giant roots, was too big for me.

So I called in a tree guy. I stood in the backyard describing the situation to him on the phone. And while I talked, the park lantern caught my eye.

I love the lantern, because it's cute and lights up our otherwise pitch-black yard at night. It's seen better days, though--the paint has long since faded, and the globe was cracked. Also, because my dusk-to-dawn sensor doesn't work with the white frosting in the globe, the light stays on 24 hours a day.

I decided to freshen up the lantern with a new globe and some paint.

The paint was easy. I sprayed on a whole can of black paint, leaving the pole shiny and new. Unfortunately, I also painted the plants and shrubs behind it black, which cost me a couple hours of clean-up pruning.

I also found that replacing the globe wasn't as easy (or cheap!) as I thought. I went to a couple garden and lighting stores, but no one sold clear replacement globes. So I scoured the online shopping sites, finally found one expensive replacement that didn't fit, returned it, and found another that did fit. I don't love it, but it's clear, fits, and the dusk-to-dawn sensor works.

After three weeks of shopping and returns, my refurbished park lantern was done. It looked great, worked better than ever, and I was happy.

I turned my attention back to the fake banana tree. I'd hacked away enough to put the fountain up now, but I held off. My fountain had been in the garage almost a month now, but I didn't want the tree guys to cut the fountain cord while removing the banana tree.

When the tree guys arrived, I showed them the banana tree and a small palm tree underneath I'd discovered while hacking away. I asked if they could remove that, too. And since they were there, could they also remove the giant palm tree stump in my front yard and the six pieces the tree had been sawed into? (Those hundred-pound pieces sat next to my kitchen door the past four years.)

"Did you get a friend to do it, or just pay someone to do it cheap?" The tree guy asked, kicking a stump.

"Both," I said. He laughed.

And so, four trees, six stumps and $200 later, my yard looked much, much better. I took the evening off from yardwork to play basketball with Mark.

"Let's play before it gets dark," Mark said.

"No worries," I said. "The park lantern will light up the yard."

I should have shut my mouth. Because lo and behold, dusk came on, but my park light didn't.

"C'mon, Mom," Mark whined, while I stared at the dark light. "Let's play!"

"Why isn't the light on?" I asked. I walked to the plug, tracing my hand down the line, until I found my answer.

Yup, a severed cord. The tree guys had chopped the cord in half.

And here we were, back at the beginning. My beautiful lantern was operational for two whole days. My poor fountain was still in the garage. And I was back on the phone, this time to an electrician/handyman.

The handyman arrived and 50 bucks later, the cord was fixed.

And now, finally, I could set up the dang fountain. I did, quickly, filled it with water and plugged it in. It. Was. AWESOME.

I grinned wildly, slapping Mark on the back.

"I love it!" I told him. "It's so cool!!!"

I stepped back to admire it. And noticed all the dirt, where the trees had previously been. The rest of the yard was filled with bright red bark, but here, just gray dirt. Between that and the shrubs I'd hacked down behind it, it was ugly.

"Let's get some new bark," I told Mark. "And some flowers to give it a little burst of color."

And there we were, back at the hardware store where it all started. We walked down the fountain aisle, where Mark pointed out our fountain was gone.

"They sold out of our fountain!" he said. I thought about all the work I'd done, all the money I'd spent, and wished they'd sold out four weeks ago, before we'd arrived.

We loaded up a cart with bark, and found some pretty blue flowers. We also found some cool fruit trees, which then needed planters, and soil. Two hundred and fifty dollars later, we slowly pushed the heavy cart out the door.

I spent the rest of the day planting trees and flowers, hauling and spreading bark, cleaning up debris and dodging basketballs. (Mark wanted to hang out in the yard with me but didn't want to help.) By five o'clock, I was spent, but I was finally, finally finished, and the yard looked great.

The updated orchard--now contains orange, avocado, peach, cherry and lime trees.

New apple tree, and new banana tree (will produce REAL bananas!) in the background.

The fountain!!!

The fountain has LED lights that make it look like it's shoots out flames at night! (Yes, that's what sold Mark on it.)

"Looks good!" Mark said, surveying the yard.

"Thanks," I said.

Because it does. The fountain looks awesome, and it only cost me a month of weekends, one sore back, two weeks shopping online for lantern globes, two service guys, four trips to the nursery/hardware store, and about $750. And I'm exhausted!

So please, please, please...don't give the mouse any more cookies!!