This year, we have been sharing our Labor of Love stories with you. Some have been about products and some have been about personal experiences, but they’ve all reflected on our appreciation for the handmade, the hard-won, and the heartfelt. To honor this weekend’s holiday, we wanted to pay tribute to the biggest labor of love of all: motherhood. We hope you enjoy our stories—and feel inspired to share one of your own with us. Or, even better, share it with the special ones near to you.
My story begins with my daughter as a toddler, barely two years old. I wanted to share my love of fresh-grown food and cooking from scratch with her right from the start. She wasn’t tall enough to reach the kitchen island, so a makeshift step stool found a permanent place nearby. She could hold a wooden stirring spoon and bang metal measuring cups together; the basics were in place. After years of spills, floury messes, smiles through “experiments,” and large doses of patience, what I hoped to instill took hold.
Last weekend, my daughter, now 11, and I headed to the farmer’s market. We meandered around, picking up a little of this and a little of that. Upon arriving home, I pulled out a recipe so we could cook up our finds. My daughter then turned to me and declared that she didn’t really need me in her kitchen. She took over and spent the next few hours baking for our family. I realized she’s independent now and ready to carry this love of fresh food into her own future, which warmed my heart to the core. She’ll never be without the means to gather those around her for a thoughtful meal and time spent with family and friends.