Pinteresting

I'm not on pinterest, but I must admit that sometimes when I have a few minutes of time, I like to look at people's pinned pages via facebook.  It seems that all of my friends who have a pin-board (I'm not sure that that's the correct terminology) have a page devoted to food and I love the food.

For some reason, every recipe pinned to has a gorgeous shot of whatever was made.  It's like a glossy new cookbook just for me.  I love cookbooks with good pictures.  They really help to motivate.  This pregnancy, I've been really into cooking/baking.  It could be something to do with trying to figure out foods that a small fellow whose teeth hurt would want to eat.  It could be that I'm hungry all the time and the pictures are too darn pretty.  It could just be that I've always loved cooking and baking and I've just told myself to get over the fact that I hate doing dishes and make them dirty anyway.

The odd thing about the joy of discovery of these new sites of recipes is that I find is that it's making me less inclined to blog.  I think I've figured out why.

• I see a pretty picture.
• Read a recipe.
• Think, "ooh" or "mmm" or "no, not really"
• Then realize, "hey, they have a whole folder of recipes"
• Scan through the recipes.
• They often have step-by-step pictures of how-to
• A picture is very compelling and beguiling and man am I ever hungry.
• "Hey, I make good food from scratch and play with recipes"
• "I should post recipes on my blog"
• But I never take pictures of the during as I'm trying to do it as fast as possible as the little boy is not so helpful with the kitchening at this point.
• And I rarely take pictures when the food is done, because it is delicious and I am hungry and "oh I'll take a picture tomorrow".
• So I don't post a recipe because "what is a recipe without out the beautiful, drool-causing photo?"
• And then I don't blog because much of my life is playing with a small person, cleaning and cooking.  It's not that fun to blog about cleaning.  The little person is awesome but I don't want to share everything with the internet land.
• And I don't have that much spare time anyway.  I'm pretty much, go go go all day long and then enjoy time with the hubby in the evening when the work is done.
• So when I catch that spare moment, I pop on facebook (which is much less exciting than it was in uni, probably because there is no logic homework to ignore), and hope someone has been pinning so I can look at recipes (and sometimes mother-ideas which often make me feel inadequate, but that is a whole other thing).

But, I did take a picture of the perogies I made, so they will show up.  I mean, when I have time to upload photos.

Hmm, garlic cheese fingers.

Turn, turn, turn

Growing a new life is amazing.  It's incredible to think that inside of me, a person is being knitted together.  A person is formed, down to eyelashes and fingerprints, spending time chubbing up to take on this terrible world.

It's overwhelming sometimes to think that this is happening with really no help whatsoever from me.  The most impressive things about me are things I have no control over, it seems.

I love this child already and look forward to the day he or she comes out and explodes our lives with joy (even as sleep is stolen).  I would prefer it if he or she listened to the time table and stuck around in there for a couple more months.  Every little kick and push and tickle reminds me how blessed I am to be carrying around this bundle of joy.

The big ones though...

Last weekend baby decided to be helpful and get into the right position: head down, nose toward spine, feet kicking lungs, heart, uvula, et c. My mother claims that for her this was a fast process, a kind of "oh, goodness, the whole world just flipped" deal.  My child does not think along these turns, but determined to get this right the first time changed direction slowly and painfully.

Oh yes, pregnancy is amazing and full of wonder and stupendous and painful.

Baby took the weekend to turn sideways.  To any woman who has ever carried a third trimester baby prone, you have my deepest empathy. I am not of the shape where sideways baby is an option.

Baby was encouraged to turn, turn, turn.  Baby did.  Slowly. Thoughtfully.  Painstakingly.  In a way that seemed to say, "Look Mom, I only want to do this once, so I'm going to do it right.  Leave me be." I feel that this shall be the child who spends five minutes drawing one crooked line on a page while his/her elder brother eats all the crayons, rearranges all the toys and jogs around the block.

Baby stopped the big movements then.  No need to get all excited, they must have thought.  He or she will drop down into position when the time comes.  Slowly. Thoughtfully.  Amazingly.

Quickly then

This shan't be a long post.  I've been quite busy lately.  Not that posting isn't important and I do have many posts waiting to be written, but I've got some things to get done that take precedence.

Today I made two chocolate cakes and shall not eat a bit of either.

Little fellow and I have come to an understanding about food, though it's still a bit of an experiment all the time.

Little fellow is weaned!  Woot!

Laundry and dishes are dull.  I just thought I'd say what everyone was thinking.

My second child lives under my ribs as did my first.  It wasn't comfy then, it ain't now.  12 weeks to go!

I'm slightly scared of having two kids.  But only sometimes (the scared, I mean, not the kids).

I think the Fugitive is a great movie.

Wintery days (Cool, dim, windy) are good days for walks, even with a stroller.

Swings are the coolest things ever.

Buying stuff online is good to battle instant gratification.  I've been waiting for my new maternity clothes for forever.  Or at least a week.

Facebook and television are a waste of life.  Limit them.

Water is good for you and delicious.

I would like to cuddle with my husband now.

I would also like a pedicure.  I can still reach my feet and should probably just do it myself.

Reading the same board book 20 times in an hour is boring.

The tone and style of writing in the Harry Potter series changes as Harry gets older and becomes less story and more real-ish.  Is this because her writing style change or she attempted to write the way Harry would have thought in his development?

I bought a pair of black leather boots on sale for $10, marked down from $172.  I felt guilty and almost offered to pay more.

Free range eggs are yellower.

Yellow is a happy colour.

Adrian is good at backrubs.

I only have one more can of tinned tomatoes and keep forgetting to buy more.

I'm all out of red licorice.  I ate the last wee bag of nibs today that I'd saved from the Canada trip.

It's a good night for a cup of tea.

And to snuggle.

I think we'll watch a movie now.

Goodnight.