NaBloPoMo: Day 2

Although I wasn't hit hard by the nesting bug, towards the end of my pregnancy I did have a lingering urge to use up those items that have been lingering in the pantry for years. You know, those half bags of chopped nuts, ignored candy, impulse purchases, and boxes of Kraft mac and cheese that my sister gave me when R and I first moved in together, six years ago. So, when I saw Loobylu's recipe for her mother's boiled fruit cake, I instantly recognized an opportunity to use up the several packages of dried figs I had somehow acquired over the years.

I'm not exactly sure what I was expecting to happen when I cooked the resulting blob of fruity dough, but I think some rising was probably in order. Maybe the substitute for self-rising flour wasn't quite right. An hour or so later, the cake looked much as it did when I put it in the oven, only cooked.

Still, the resulting cake didn't go to waste. It was pretty tasty, and seemed like the sort of thing one might want to bring if setting off of a long journey. R made some references to dwarf bread, but the reason this cake would be good travel fare is because it is nutritiously dense (a little bit will fill you up), sturdy, and won't go bad at room temperature (which is saying a lot in San Diego, land of mold). I ate slices of it for breakfast for weeks with no noticeable decline in quality. Plus it finally got me to eat all those figs.

NaBloPoMo: Day 1*

My mom visited recently (nothing like a baby to get people to visit), and I happened to mention that my father-in-law makes the world's best stuffing, and that I didn't even like stuffing previously. This rather annoyed my mom, who defended her own stuffing. To be honest, though, I can't even remember her ever making stuffing, which is why I felt it was safe to mention my general dislike of stuffing. What is it with that dish? People seem crazy for it.

* Seriously, I can't believe I'm doing this again. I haven't been able to make it the last few years and this time I've got a one month old. Perhaps I'm just trying to reestablish the habit of blogging. I've been rather slack of late. I keep composing posts in my head and then never actually posting them.

Food, glorious food!

I mentioned a bit ago (you know, before all this baby excitement) that I'd been checking out cookbooks from the library. It turns out that this is only a good strategy if you only like a few recipes from a cookbook, as is generally the case for me. If, however, you come across a great cookbook, you will be forced to buy it.

Hopefully this won't happen too often. I've got way too many cookbooks already.

As it turns out, How to Cook Everything is everything I've been wanting in a basic, all-purpose cookbook. An alternate title could be "Simple-ish Recipes That A Would Like to Cook." Sure, I've got ye olde standard Better Homes and Gardens Cookbook, but most of the recipes in there are of a distictly midwestern sensibility. I mostly wind up using the conversion tables and looking up how long it takes to steam broccoli.

Actual cooking has slowed down for the moment, at least until we eat through the glorious quantities of food people provided us with to help us though the first few weeks of the little one's existence. Still, I've got plans. I think I used up an entire pad of post its on this book.

Thank you, internet

I swear, everyone on the internet seems to be having babies. Deb over at Smitten Kitchen, Dooce, everyone on my college band alumni newsgroup, the pregnancy forum... Wait, that last one is probably self-selecting for babies.

Anyway, it turns out that hearing from all these other people in similar situations is a good way to reduce The Crazy. This morning, I made the mistake of trying to wear some of my pre-pregnancy pants. I couldn't even button the jeans that I accidentally purchased a size too big off of EBay.

Luckily for my self esteem, Dooce wrote today that she is now, four months along, fitting into her pre-pregnancy pants. Sort of. After a familial tragedy and lots of stress, resulting in weight loss.

So, yeah, I feel better that I can't wear my fat jeans a week and a half after giving birth.

All the news that is the news

Had I actually posted the posts I'd been composing in my head these last few weeks, you would have heard all about the glorious return of my feet to (almost) normal size two weeks ago. It was awesome, though I will probably never know if it was due to the change to cooler weather or some hormonal shift.

I also would have mentioned something about the awesome baby shower my work threw for me. I knew they were getting me a diaper bag and second car seat base, but when I sat down for lunch they brought out this whole pile of gifts. Apparently they felt the need to remedy the fact that the majority of the baby's clothes for the first few months are hand-me-downs from her male cousins. Or perhaps it was just the inescapable lure of tiny pink clothes.

On October 1st, I would have told you that I wound up going home from work about midday with regular, but not overly strong contractions. In the days following, you would have heard me become increasingly impatient for labor to really set in. I'd been resigned to a late baby up until that point in time, but apparently going past my due date instantly destroyed my patience. I'm still not sure how my mom survived the three extra weeks she had to wait for me to arrive.

Instead of all that, I'll simply tell you that I've got a daughter. She's been curled up on my chest while I've been writing this post.

Since she's arrived, it's been interesting to see how much interest we devote to the basics of existence. At this point in time, my dad would probably break out Maslow's hierarchy of needs, and point out that, with this new addition, we've been dropped down to the lowest level while we regain our feet. So, until everything is settled and routine, we'll be devoting extra mental resources to eating, excreting, and sleeping. On the upside, completing such tasks seems to come with a much greater reward than previously, so I don't mind at all.