Problem is, my body can't quite catch up to my heart.
Patience is my most necessary companion and my biggest struggle at these times.
Each week that passes since our littlest one's birth, I feel stronger and stronger and this week I am relishing the fact that my boys and I baked together for the first time in just about a month.
It felt so good!
It was cloudy, windy, and cold outside. (Where are you Spring?) The littlest one was sound asleep. The aroma of pork roasting in the slow cooker filled the entire house. That's when the urge to bake hit me. When I told my boys we were going to bake bread to go with our pork dinner, their excitement just about equaled mine.
I asked my oldest son what type of bread he would like to make and he requested Apple Bread. We all cuddled up on the couch together, opened up Pinterest on the computer and found a recipe for Applesauce Bread (close enough ;).
Then we were baking just like the 'old' days before our sweet #3 arrived.
Measuring, pouring, stirring, (and wiping up spilled flour, of course ;)... such routine acts associated with baking were soothing to my soul.
That morning we enjoyed the smell of cinnamon as our bread baked. That afternoon we enjoyed the anticipation while our bread cooled on the counter. That evening we enjoyed the taste of sweetness while our bread filled our stomachs and nourished our bodies.
Baking bread. Such an ordinary act that is so often taken for granted. Such an important lesson in cherishing the moment.
Linking up with Gina today: