synchronize your watches!

I know you all sick of hearing about this, but it is only going to get worse before it gets better.

I am already not a very patient person and I hate hate hate not having control over a situation. I don't need to know the exact time, just the day would be nice. Do you hear that, mango? Morse code the date in kicks and you will have a happy mom.

Scheduling is a main issue here - not for me (today is my last day in the office, I am golden after about 1:30 today), but for my mom. While she lives about 20 minutes away, her weeks are spent in New Jersey and Pennsylvania, which means she will have at least a 4 hour drive to come back if she is not in town when the big moment starts happening. Granted, labor takes hours and unless I have a crazy quick labor, I am pretty confident that she will be there. But still.

We worked out a schedule that should be fine. She is back in town tonight and around this weekend, and then will be working from home all next week or until I have the baby. If I don't have the baby by Tuesday (my actual due date), my doctor said they will just induce next week, which means there will be a baby by Friday at the latest. Even if it is Friday, my mom will have the whole weekend and probably Monday before she has to go back. What we are hoping, though, is that the baby is born this weekend or early next week. Then she can just take next week off and that will be that!

My sister is a different story. Her schedule is not as flexible; she will probably just come up the first weekend after the little mango is born. So for her to be there, I really do need to go into labor tonight.

My doctor is another thing altogether. We are at MGH, which means that when I do go into labor, I will not have my OB, but the OB on call. Well, my OB is on call today. While I am 100% sure nothing is going to happen today, it would be nice. My mom will be here, my sister can come this weekend, and I will have my own doctor for the delivery. Everyone wins!

So when you pray for contractions (and I know you all are, right?) think good thoughts about today (after 1:30ish), Friday, and this weekend. Anything later than Mondayish should work too, but I just won't have my mom around for as long. Hmm... I may have to write to Obama about paid grand-maternity leave...

ETA: I just remembered one crucial kink in the plan. Divya has Paul McCartney tickets for tomorrow night and has made it clear that Paul trumps mango. Even if the mango ripens today, we all won't be seeing my sister until late Saturday morning at the earliest. Maybe she can pick up a cute onesie at Shea:)

flipping my bandana

Cabin fever has officially set in. Every night, I come home and settle in on the couch and stay there until bedtime. I have no energy to cook, clean up, go for a walk, run errands, or otherwise leave the house/couch. And it is driving me crazy. I actually look forward to going into the office, and am a little sad that tomorrow is my last day (I'll be working from home starting Friday)

There is NOTHING on TV, Netflix didn't come yesterday, and there are only so many baths and showers you can take before you start feeling guilty about the envoinment. Help me.

Send me book recs! i just finished Revolutiionary Road and loved it, but I think I need something a little bit more upbeat to pass the time...

Homemade butter, bitches!

Today, I made my own butter. I am very pleased with myself. Clearly.

It is actually very easy, if you have a food processor. You just put a quart of heavy cream in the food processor, hit on, and wait 4 minutes. The cream separates into butter and butter milk. Strain out the buttermilk and tada! Butter!

I saw Tyler Florence make butter like this during a breakfast-themed show. He made orange honey butter and used the buttermilk to make buttermilk berry scones. It looked so simple; I couldn't wait to try his butter trick. The scones, however, were a different story.

I am afraid of scones. They just seem so fickle. If the butter is not cold enough, they are too dense, if the butter is too worked through, they are too hard, if the butter pieces are too big... well you get the picture. Needless to say, I was wary.

Since the food processor was in the sink (from the butter), I ended up mixing the scone batter with a fork, instead mechanically, like Tyler says. I think the manual labor did the trick. I was able to control the size of the butter pieces with the fork and avoided over-mixing.

The scones were amazing. The fresh buttermilk, the blueberries, and the orange honey butter only heightened the moist center and the crunchy crust. The only thing I would change is the amount of berries I added. I overdid it and the berries added too much moisture.

This is a great recipe. The whole thing, including making the butter, takes about 30 minutes (not counting baking time). Try it next time you want to impress people. There is nothing like flavored butter from scratch to wow a crowd.

The leftover buttermilk.



Anyone need any butter?

Giving in, just this once....

Early last week - or was it the week before last?- I was watching a DVRed Gilmore Girls and Rory was eating cake. Not just cake, a multi-layered chocolate-frosted Dutch baby that looked too good to be true. I wanted it.

Now, I haven't been having any crazy cravings. No pickles, no tubs of ice cream, none of that. I found that I am simply wanting the things I usually want (cheesecake, cupcakes, etc), but now I am allowing myself to eat them. Non-preggo me would want to pick up a blueberry cheese cake at Finale on the way home but would let common sense take over, because that is ludicrous. Preggo me is like, why not? I know I won't be able to let myself have cupcakes and all that after the baby is born, so I am just giving in when my sweet tooth hits.

It does not hit often; my diet is basically Honey Nut Cheerios, fruit, granola bars, Greek yogurt, glasses of OJ, fat-free blueberry smoothies, grilled cheese sandwiches with tomatoes, and mac and cheese with veggies mixed in. When it does hit, it is usually because I see someone on TV eating something (I am a advertiser's dream...). Rory's chocolate cake was one of those times.

Now, I hadn't sent Josh out to get me anything, ever. Even if I did see something that I wanted, I knew I would get over it as soon as the commercial was over or if I just got up and had some watermelon or something. This time, however, I wanted chocolate cake and didn't feel too bad about asking Josh to run to the grocery store down the street for one. It was the first (and only) time, and it wasn't like he was doing anything anyway:) So he did. And we ate it. And it was good.

Dinner that night was what I like to call "Birthday party a la four-year-old". Pizza, soda, and chocolate cake. I gained a pound that week.... Totally worth it.

Sir, your room is ready

After many months of cleaning out and painting and ordering furniture and replacing damaged furniture and putting things together and picking out rugs, the nursery is complete!


Josh spent a whole weekend painting the walls yellow and this double green stripe around the room. He really did a great job, and the colors (his choice) also brightened up the room without standing out like a sore thumb in our 1920's house.
Putting together the crib on a sunny day. I love how the light hits this room in the mornings.

Crib and glider!
Taking a closer look at the damaged dresser. They swapped them out this morning, so we are all set.

Happy about the baby's room!
The view from the closet.
Soon after I was born, my dad's intern painted this for me, and I have been carrying it around every since. My mom told me yesterday that it was this intern that took her into Manhattan for the first time and showed her all the fancy stores and upscale restaurants. I love that this painting will be a constant connection to my dad and my mom's memories of the early 1980's.
This was the set that we chose at Babies R Us and decided to build room around it. This canvas painting was part of a set that included the sheets, crib liner, comforter, a valance (that is too small for the windows and is now draped on the glider), a "diaper holder", a crib skirt, and mobile. We really like the jungle/animal theme - hope our little Mowgli does too:)
The view from the windows. I am still not sure how these bookshelves will be used. I wish I knew what my system will be - guess we will just have to wait until we figure out what routine and set up works best. That glass door leads right into our bedroom, which will be a blessing... and a curse....
View from the chair.
View from the crib.
Other view from the crib.

Josh putting the Diaper Genie together this morning.
View from the door.

sweet little mango

Anyone who has talked to me in the past week or so knows that I am ready for this kid to come out. For many reasons. I want to meet him, of course. I want to see what he looks like! Will his eyes be blue like mine? Will he have hair?

The other reason is that I am done being a incubator. Done. The kid is clearly running out of room, and it is taking its toll on my body. Pain is pretty much constant. My ligaments are loosening, my ribs are expanding, my skin is stretching. I am afraid to complain too much about this, though. I don't want the kid to think I am resentful or mad at him, or that I want him to come out for only selfish reasons (although they are a little bit selfish...). I feel that in complaining and I am complaining about him, when none of this is really his fault.

It's Josh's.

Anyway, I was talking to my mom about this and she made some good points. First, why would ANYone want to come out? He is all bundled up in there, warm and cozy. He has everything he needs. We even play with him in there. On cold winter mornings, it is pretty hard for me to get out of the down cocoon I manage to spin after Josh leaves for work. I guess I can empathize with the baby. But still! There is so much more out there than cold air and light! Like MEEPA!

She also said that the baby was like a fruit. He will only fall off the tree when he is ripened. Just like I wouldn't want to to tug and pull at a green mango to get it off the tree, I don't want the baby to come out before he is good and ripe and ready. I just a to wait, I guess. Wait and wait and wait.

And wait.

POV

A friend of mine brought this to my attention today.

It is extremely timely, not only because I am going on maternity leave in a few short weeks, but also because she and I were talking about this exact same thing just a few days ago. I love my job and have every intention of coming back after 3 months (for more than the whole money issue). I LIKE working and being part of a cog in the world outside my home.

At the same time, I know I will be miserable leaving the little one every day. How could I not be? It is probably the hardest thing we ask modern mothers to do.

I have a feeling that my sentiments will echo those in the article, but a dual income family means more for the baby. My parents sacrificed time with my sister and me, and we benefited from those sacrifices in the long run. We grew up in a great town with a big house and yard, both went to private colleges with no student loans, traveled the world as teenagers, went to elite summer programs at local universities. I never thought my kids would be any different.

I suppose the question here is, do you leave your child for his own good or stay for yours?

forecast happiness!

Three! THREE sunny days in row! It is going to be sunny and 80 today! Sun! 80!

Ok - I am done.

ironic or just insulting?

I decided to compromise. If I gave in and bought the Bliss products I wanted (this and this), I would not buy the Fresh cleanser and even give up my beloved Kiehls exfoliate, since the cleanser has an exfoliate in it, and no one shouldn't over-exfoliate, lest their skin dry out. Forgive me, I digress.

After looking longingly at the Bliss website for a week, I decided to just spend the money and get the products. I realized that besides a discounted Groupon facial, one massage, and a few pedicures, I really haven't spent a lot of money on "meepa" since Christmas. The only thing I have been spending money on is maternity clothes, and even then, I bought regular clothes that I could wear after the pregnancy as well. And the Bliss stuff smells really nice and makes me happy and I am 37 weeks pregnant, dammit!

Off to Sephora! Noel and I went after a nice long lunch on Thursday. After picking out what I wanted (and a little something something, Noel's recommendation), my attention was drawn to the Philosophy display. I was looking for a good bubble bath. Time in the jacuzzi has increased in the past few weeks, and I was thinking of branching out from the eucalyptus salts that Josh bought me last winter.

Not seeing anything I wanted to buy, I turned the corner to see what else Philosophy had to offer and saw the "face stuff". Anti-aging, anti-wrinkle, anti-this, anti- that. I didn't know Philosophy was in that market as well. I, personally, am not there yet, but I have 2 and half years until I turn 30.... it's only a matter of time. It's aaaaaaaaall about prevention, people.

What tickled me about the product was the name. Hope. They actually called their anti-old line "Hope". What message are the trying to send? Are they trying to be ironic or is "hope" the genuine sentiment they want to put forward.

Now I can't be too indignant. I am cleansing and exfoliating and all that to make my skin tight and clean and smooth, and I do want to keep this skin as long as possible. I want the young looking hands and cellulite-free thighs and smooth elbows. I am not ashamed to say so, nor I am ashamed to spend a little money to get all this. Maybe what struck me was Philosophy's brazen labeling choice.

Is selling "hope" in a jar too obvious? Why not just call it "Defiance" or "Denial" or even "Oh God No!" Thoughts?

*********************

Ok, so I just saw this, this and this. I am officially amused.