Weeding with Lou-berry

I sit with my soon to be one year-old daughter on my knee, basking in the heat of a Montana summer, attempting to weed my garden. Mind you, anyone reading this from my home state of Arkansas will have to argue that heat and Montana should not be in the same sentence. I never knew what my life would look like. Obviously, no one can predict… But we all have ideas and interpretations, and expectations of what we want. I sit here trying to get my garden weeded. A garden I swore I would never have after hours of yardwork with my father in my younger years. My brother still swears to never have a yard, although he is now doing a hyodropnoic garden. Great job dad! Feeling the pressure of the weeds creeping in, finding myself getting irritated when Lou wants to be held. I took a moment and gave her some strawberries. This is the first year we have gotten a crop, last year we (unwillingily) donated them to the birds. She was smashing them in her face and on her clothes, faster than I could pick them. Watching her, I realized that I needed to slow down. I know everyone says that. But really… Slow down. I needed to not care about how many weeds I got out of the garden. She doesn’t care what the garden looks like. She cares that I showed up. She cares that we had fresh food to eat. I plopped her on my knee, held her with one arm and weeded with the other. I definitely wasn’t as productive as I had meant to be in the garden, yet I was as productive as a mother. Link below for how to clean strawberry stain.