While I fall down on the job on unimportant parenting tasks like setting regular meal or nap times, I have already started a mini-family tradition with Amelia: Foodie Church! On Saturday mornings we sleep as late as Amelia wishes (sometimes as late as SEVEN-THIRTY) and then we try our best to get to the Sunset Valley Farmer’s Market by 9 am.

We go armed with a list, of course, as ours is a frugal household that can’t afford to spend $5 for four fresh, local figs just because they’re fresh and local. So mostly we buy staples, but even at the market we have our routine: first we make a recon round, checking on what’s there and what’s new, and who has the prettiest produce for the lowest prices. This market is rich in organic, pastured meats, but our household does not dine on $35 chickens - so we keep to the green grocers, even eschewing the fresh mushroom stall and the goat milk & cheese stalls. This week we bought peppers, onions, roma tomatoes, a huge canteloupe, and an eggplant. Usually I treat myself to a small bag of kettle corn. When Amelia gets old enough, I might even share.

After our trip to the market, we go to the grocery store for the rest of our staples. Even though Amelia is big enough to sit in the cart these days, I keep her in the Ergo baby carrier when we shop because that way I can maneuver in the crowded store without worrying about the cart. More importantly, it allows me to keep a running conversation with her about our shopping trip, which might go something like this:

“what’s next on the list… oh, shall we get Daddy some cookies? Do you see the kind he likes, with the chocolate chips? I don’t see them! Oh, there they are – good eye!… don’t let me forget the honey – we have to go back for it because I forgot it once already – oh, those plums look nice, don’t they? Let’s get some… not too hard but not too soft… I think four is enough… what else do we need? We bought onions at the market… we have potatoes at home… what looks good in the fish case?” Every so often a fellow shopper overhears our conversation and glances twice, but I flatter myself that it’s no more irritating than someone talking into a hands-free device as they walk along, effectively talking to a phantom. Plus, it keeps Amelia soothed and quiet.

By the time we get home from our errands, Amelia’s usually overdue for a nap, so I have to rush the groceries in the house, rush the frozen things into the freezer, and let the rest of the bags rusticate on the counter or the kitchen floor while I nurse her down to a nap. If the whole day is free, we’ll spend the afternoon in the kitchen together – her in her exersaucer and me at the counter. To keep her somewhat engaged, I’ll sing along to whatever music suits our (my) fancy that day – this weekend it was barbershop quartet stuff on Pandora. Bless you, interwebs, slave to my every musical whim!

I love Saturdays.