A Day in the Life of a.. Natural Mama:
As summer presses on I find that my days begin later and later. However, this particular Saturday we’re up around 8:30. My husband and I cosleep, so the first thing I’m greeted with every single day is the sleepy face of a two-year old.Â Her precocious little brain is my constant course of entertainment. It’s not unusual for us to lay in bed for a while, calling out for her imaginary friends to wake up from their sleepy hiding spot on top of the fan.Â Sometimes they listen, and today we were lucky enough that they flew down to play with us.
Routines and schedules are non-existent for us, especially during the last few weeks before school starts up again. However, it’s Saturday and there’s fresh food that we need to gather. The local Farmer’s Market is calling to us. There’s also native Paw-Paw trees nearby that we suspect are ripe and we want to scope out.Â We’re out of bed and joined by my other daughter.
She’s 10 going on 16. She’s a natural performer and there’s never a dull moment with her around. This morning’s adventures with her include changing some dirty bandages from a scootering accident she had a few days ago. Words can’t even express the drama that ensued, and since I try to remain gore-free I’ll skip over those grimy details.Â Oh, and let me repeat that: she had an accident on her scooter. Oy.
The Farmer’s Market. This visit I’m fortunate enough to have a helper with me, and my husband chaperones the children while I peruse shelves of fresh produce. The baby sits on my husband’s shoulders, chubby little arms crossed over his head, and watches the world excitedly from her bird’s eye view. I weigh, I compare, I haggle. Our haul is huge and we depart with food that will turn into projects which will turn into sustenance in future months– ideally, at least.
Let me just pause here to say that our days revolve solely around those things: children and food. A lot of our time, and thus this post, will reflect that.
Bruised tomatoes are to be split, some are slowly dried in the oven with a mixture of homemade herbs. Then everything will be blended to make raw marinara sauce, portioned and frozen for meals-to-be-determined.
Cabbage is to be washed, torn, and tossed with salt. Pressed. After a few weeks it’ll turn into sauerkraut.
Of course, none of these food-projects are getting done now. Now the weather is beautiful out, with fall temperatures starting to roll in, so I’m getting the garden pruned and pulled to prepare for fall planting. I think I should have done this a few weeks ago. Or maybe it doesn’t need to be done for a few weeks? I’m just winging it, really, I have no idea. As I garden the children do exercises with their uncle in the yard.Â Stretching into silly poses, creating hurdles to jump over, handstands, flips, pullups, obstacle courses.
By mid-afternoon we’re all tuckered out. I put the baby down for a nap, my older daughter has some “me time”, and I get to get ready for work. There’s 6 hours of my life I’ll never get back.
When I’m home again it’s night, close to 10ish. The children are up and waiting for me to put them to bed. The baby is very dependent on me. Tonight she’s waiting outside with her grandmother, learning about the stars and the moon and watching airplanes go by. I’m greeted in the driveway.
I know it’s late but we’ve missed each other and need to get in a little more playtime in. She professes this to me in the way that only a child can, put bluntly in her tiny voice: “I missed you so much mommy!”.Â We eat soup. We jump on the bed. Before long she’s asleep in my arms, while her older sister falls asleep in her own bedroom.
For the first time since we woke up in the morning I have mommy time. And this is what I chose to do with it tonight: document my day. It may not be the most exciting story but it’s ours, and I wouldn’t change it for the world!