Farmer's Market Bundles & Bungles

Boys + Me + Farmer's Market = yummies (and only mild chaos) 
I couldn't wait to go. I even blogged about it in my bungled up blog post from earlier. The Farmer's Market was waiting for us. I just knew it.  All of the market delectables would be at hand, my surly teen would elicit a smile, G would run from booth to booth and the youngest would skip around picking out delicious food that only he and I like to eat. And I would prove, beyond a reason of a doubt, that I was a wholesome, practically perfect mum with Cherubs for boys. Well, I didn't get the memo about the so called Cherubs. Because the Cherubs were having some serious issues. So clearly it was a dream. A dream wrapped in an illusion of a hope that I could successfully get the boys out the door without me yelling at them, or one of them chasing the other down the block. Okay. I didn't necessarily envision one of them chasing the other down the block, but I should have known that getting them over to this "mythical land", which in their mind seemed to only be inhabited by adult trolls (& swiss chard), would be a bit of chore.

So let me first give you the good news: we made it to the Farmer's Market, all of us, alive. We purchased wares. We made it home. Here is proof. Lovely Happy Proof, that I am a practically perfect mum, who has perfect and practical (fair trade!) farmer's market baskets.




Perhaps some of the trials of the morning was due to the fact we were all so hungry. So first and foremost, sugary carb goodness was in order for breakfast. And then I found the coffee, and it was all, much, much better.

And then there were The Strawberries! AND I have to say every. single. one. of my boys adore strawberries and I was thrilled to purchase something that would not be contentious in the least.

Tomatoes! I haven't bought tomatoes since 2012! And these were so very gorgeous. yum. 

There was Honey, so beautiful, so delectable, that the scent of clover dripping and golden called to me as I passed by.  Its sweetness wafted from the sealed jars. I could already Taste the honey in my afternoon tea.

And my baskets were perfect. 

So was my coffee. 

And, in the end, so were the boys. They ate, they played, they conquered. 

Now let me describe, briefly, the other parts: When I told N that I was going to take the boys to the park and the Farmer's Market for breakfast, he chuckled. Chuckled! and then he left for his all day meeting. Fun. Thanks! I mumbled, Love you too! I wasn't daunted though. I had been up! Up since 6am, drinking coffee and doing what I do best, which is drink coffee. Finally, one by one the evil minions the Cherubs! arose. Each one seemed to be vaguely complicit in going to the Farmer's Market. The word "seemed" is imperative here, because, to me it seemed like they were willing to go, all of them, "willing" to go.  It turned out they were going, just not all of them were willing. Fast forward 30minutes past the hope of departure. There I am. I am standing outside my home. Outside with my cute yoga capris and sporty baseball cap, I am adorned with my all natural fair trade market baskets that I intend to use to get in touch with the Eternal Mother. 

I haven't really screamed. I have only yelled, just a couple times, for the boys to get dressed.  And perhaps, I groveled and begged a bit before I mildly insisted that my 13yo come with us. So there I am. (Did I mention my cute capris and my awesome fair trade market baskets? best part of my morning!) So there I am, B is on his scooter, down the block screaming at me to "come on!!!" But I can't go in the direction intended because I am watching my older two, scream at each other over bike helmets.  Then to my shock and wonder, I watch as my oldest chases my middle down the block, in the other direction, screAMING! at the middle to give him his helmet back. I am so shocked because they are ruining my basket groove I have going on and my sporty baseball hat moment. When the older two finally chase each other back to the house, they resolve the ridiculous helmet issue (and I swear! I didn't yell at them at all, except to maybe point out that everyone and their mother is witnessing this fabulous parent debacle). It was awesome. Really. Awesome. Then finally (!) we start to leave. Really. G is on his bike, E is running back to get his bike because he finally has the helmet he wants (wait is he really 13 or 3?) and then....and then SOMEONE has to go. yes has to go to the bathroom. Yes. And I all I can think is Gawd. really? He doesn't even eat swiss chard! However, finally! after the THAT interruption (and not so private moment because the un-named person exclaimed his bathroom intentions to the WHOLE BLOCK), we headed over to the park for Yummies. 

And it was good. Practically Perfect. 

Until we started home. But that is another story. A story of a woefully lost (or stolen?) cell phone, a child who needed to use the bathroom (again!). And of mom, of a mom who is practically perfect in every way, except when she is not. 

XXOO

hope your weekend is going well where ever you may be!