I don’t know if it’s my pregnancy and I’m starting to nest or just the fact I’m hungry all the time, but I’ve had a serious desire to make food. I want to smell the comforting scent of bread baking and the tart bite of vinegar as I make salad dressing. I want to peel countless of lemons and chop fruit. I just don’t know what it is. I just want to be in the kitchen constantly. Even doing the mountain of dishes after a morning of chopping, juicing, frying, & mixing, seems to satisfy a tiny part of me (don’t get any ideas Chris… I still hate doing dishes).
But rather than sit on my butt scrolling through pinterest, I put myself to work. After a seriously delicious breakfast (if you missed it, I had Wildtree chocolate mousse topped with raspberries), I jumped into the car to explore one of my favorite places: the grocery store.
So many cheeses and different types of produce stared at me as I went through each aisle slowly, stopping often to smell fruits and herbs. Needless to say, I took my sweet time to gather my groceries for the week. When I was checking out, the cashier & bagger who were about my age commented on nearly everything I bought.
“What are you making with all this stuff?”
“Can you really keep using this basil plant after one use?”
“Feta cheese…. what could you possibly be using that for?”
Which, side note, makes me think of my generation and the generations after. How sad is it that most kids grow up on tv dinners and Mcdonalds and have no idea what it’s like to smell fresh basil or what real mozzarella cheese looks or tastes like. Now I’m no saint by any means, I love a good frozen pizza and I’m always in the mood for some Burger King, but that shouldn’t be an every day thing.
Anyways, I went home eager to make homemade popsicles, bruschetta, and fix my salad that I had been dreaming about all night.
After all the food had been prepared and sampled a few times, I wanted to make today even more special. I’m so bummed that I have to go back to work tomorrow. I have more than enjoyed the past week and a half of waking up without an alarm clock (usually about 8:30 or 9), sleepily walking down the stairs to mindlessly make coffee and take out my breakfast. All the while being chased by dogs who’s tails wag violently every time I look their direction. Chris and I got so much accomplished this vacation. We cleaned out our upstairs closets in preparation for mini Soroka and wiped the house down from top to bottom. How I wish that once our baby is born that I could be a stay at home mom. I want to soak up every minute of motherhood and my home and I don’t know how I’ll do it while working full time.
I know plenty of moms who have babies and then go back to work after. And I know plenty of kids to who grew up like that. But that’s not the desire I have. I just long for the day where I can wake up every day with my children and spend the entire day at home feeding hungry mouths and cleaning up that spill for the hundredth time. Those things don’t bother me and I truly wish that was what my days mostly consisted of.
Regardless, that will not be my reality. So here I am, soaking up one last moment with my husband. Sitting on the grass, taking bite after bite of bruschetta and salad, and wishing that moments like this would last forever.