What is Mother's Day?

It is Mother's Day. I am grateful, thankful and pleased to have had a lovely family lunch at Mum's, but I am confused by the assumption that mothers should 'take it easy' on Mother's Day. By midday I had made the tea, fed Scarlett (by bottle; I reclaimed ownership of my breasts yesterday morning), tidied away all the toys (twice), fed the rabbits, hoovered the bedroom (as well as several receipts from Dan's side of the bed and a dressing gown cord), wrapped presents, called Dan's Mum and entertained Scarlett. It's not Dan's fault - I had a lovely card and he gave Scarlett breakfast (twice, more on that later) before going to work but if I had played the Mother's Day Card (and lay on the bed reading a book, which is what I really wanted to do) then we would have been in chaos, which would have caused me stress and isn't that counter-productive?

With Scarlett coming down with something else nasty (gummy eye) she has been very clingy so as I sit here now I am not sure that it was a truly great day. However, having heard that Jade Goody died in the early hours of this morning I will try my best to be thankful for my life and remember that tomorrow is another day.

Philly and I took off to Southwold yesterday with Scarlett in tow (asleep on the way, happy at the beach, screaming all the way home) to get some air and pick up a plate from Thea's . I had a truly peaceful moment sitting at a cafe on the beach feeling the cool sea air on my face with a warm cup of tea in my hands.

So .. to the eating .. Scarlett's super appetite has virtually ground to a halt. A spoon does not have a hope of entering her mouth (unless it has yoghurt on it), any purees are spat back via a blown raspberry and mealtimes are becoming a battle ground. Knowing stress is totally the wrong approach I have tried to walk away and tell myself that it really isn't a problem (in the grand scheme of things) that on top of EVERYTHING ELSE the home-made broccoli and potato cheesy mash is now on the floor.
We then found (by accident, rather than any form of super-parenting know-how) that Scarlett just wants to feed herself.

Her calorie intake is at an all-time low, I am trying to remember to forget that eating lots of toast can't be OK, mealtimes are taking three times as long as before and I can't describe the mess.
More chaos.

Yesterday morning I had a nice long digging session up at the allotment. I am going to get a gardener's tan (a strip above the waist of your jeans where your trousers droop and your top rides up) if the weather carries on like this.

Here is something we have grown with very little effort. I just wish we could remember if this was the garlic or the onion bed!


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