And most of all, I could remember the instant gratification of these cookies: no cooking, no baking.
We all sat, un-mindfully, and I tried to breastfeed Truman. And I had given it up.
It's where I get my context and my needed ego-boosts. When he can look at a book and mean it. There's "that's not Truby, that's just Truman!
Of drinking a martini at my playdate today. But looking back on it, I knew that much of my disappointment was because of my impatience and inexperience.
I remembered other restaurants, coffee shops, bakeries, whose life was too short, where I made memories never to be repeated. The big news: I'm close to going into 'active' labor.
It was lovely, and I almost hate to look at it now because I was so naive.
So it seemed God-given when a woman in my church approached me yesterday at coffee hour with another woman I hadn't met.
And yet he's never quite old enough for anything. I fall in love, too hard, with these establishments. I love the silliness, the energy, the exuberant through-the-roof happiness of little children. Everett would eat sausage, or pancakes, and it was always worth it. I love that I finally scrubbed my walls and dusted the shelves in my stairway. The instructor, a glowingly happy woman, would go around the room picking up babies, enjoying them and giving mom time for a few solid poses. Hey, it could be this minute as I'm writing to you!
But I don't, largely, I think, because I feel my failings are in the spotlight when I'm the primary all-the-time caregiver. And the launch into a career as a "professional" blogger. One month, newspaper covered the windows, the family who sold rice bowls and ice cream cones out the takeout window packed up and left. Of high jumping and pole vaulting.
I wondered how I could be so sad after such a short time - after knowing all along that Sunday would be fleeting.
But not every mama is an "infant person.
In fact, when I do, I can't wait to hand him back to his mama.
Mary works with foster families and I just wanted to introduce you.
I never would have believed that this blog would be, not the vehicle to great success in my last job, but possibly what brought my last job to its end. There's "checkup" for ketchup and "chicken" instead of kitchen and "choschage" and "hangurber" and "canpakes. Instead, I made an album for her, of Everett, and wrote how much he wanted to meet her.
I'm experimenting with my food photography, too, and I'll post many of the results here soon. Afterward was just family, and really great.
It was lovely, and I almost hate to look at it now because I was so naive.
I took photos in fog, snow, spring, fall.
I could really take 'em or leave 'em.
People asking me, "when are you due? Here it is, variously known as cocoa butter balls; no-cook cocoa balls; no-bake cookies; and chocolatey deliciousness.