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a]:text-blue-mid [&>a]:no-underline [&>a]:hover:shadow-lightmode px-5 sm:px-4 font-medium”>I get up, get dressed, and trundle down the stairs. My husband and daughter have wandered up the street to Mug Coffee & Clay, so I step out to meet them. I love their iced coffee — but since we’re sitting in, I get a cortado. Matt and my daughter have been bringing in pastries from Rougarou Baking on the weekends. [It’s] a gorgeous apricot tart [today]. By the time I sit down, my child is completely covered in croissant crumbs and asking me the names of clay-shaping tools I’ve never seen before — bliss.

10:30 a.m.

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a]:text-blue-mid [&>a]:no-underline [&>a]:hover:shadow-lightmode px-5 sm:px-4 font-medium”>Once she’s down, I’m not truly hungry but I am a little peckish — and I am realizing I haven’t cooked today. Turning on the stove sounds good. I grab a half loaf of Mighty Bread Co. sourdough from the counter, pull some vegetable odds-and-ends out of the fridge, and make a French-ish omelet. I am not good at rolling them but enjoy both the process and the eating, so I keep trying. I assemble plates — and Matt and I dig in.

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