Zarahhh

I have loved every minute of breastfeeding (my AA cup, family history of breast cancer boobs were unexpectedly transformed from a liability into a baby-satisfying superpower), but something about the act of making my one-year old’s lunch and packing it in his lunchbox for daycare the next day makes me feel most like a mom. I can barely get my act together to make lunch for myself, but after I put him to bed I carve out time to cook him a little omelette and cut up his berries and it fills me with the warm fuzzies of parenting.

I work in a greenhouse, with my MIL. Mother’s Day is one of our busiest days of the year so we both work a really long day and I don’t usually get to do anything with my mom, although I’ve spent the last two months making hanging baskets for other people’s moms. This year I’m going out to dinner with my mom on Tuesday (I did make her some baskets too). Still deciding if I want to get up ridiculously early to have Mother’s Day breakfast with my husband before the workday or if it’s better to sleep in as much as I can!