Over the past few weeks, I've begun frequenting a farmer's market in the area. I tote all the kids with me, and we go and buy the essentials: fruit and flowers, with the occasional loaf of bread or vegetable thrown in for good measure.

I grated zucchini. I measured flour and sugar. I whisked and stirred and licked the spatula. The house was quiet and peaceful, and it was one of those moments where I found my soul being fed.

"Prayer was never meant to be magic," Mother said.

"Then why bother with it?" Suzy scowled.

"Because it's an act of love," Mother said.

A Ring of Endless Light, Madeleine L'Engle

The phrase "self care" has been cropping up a lot in my reading lately and in my life. The Man has to get on to me fairly regularly because in my attempts to take care of everyone else, I sometimes forget to take care of myself. Inevitably, that doesn't end well.

There is something in us as human beings that thrills to the thought of who we could be. As a child, all that hope is wrapped up in one question: what do you want to be when you grow up? It's fun to answer that question as a kid, and it's fun to ask it of our kids as parents.