Survival Mode

My days are numbered.

Literally.

With my delivery date inching closer, and the impending move looming, every day is marked with lists that bear the tasks that need to be accomplished. I have gone through these lists like a crazed obsessive-compulsive woman, noting where I have lagged behind and ticking off what has been done.

The list only grows longer.

I have gone to the mall to buy baby items because I foolishly thought that I was done and sold practically everything my little boy would have needed. I have gone shoe shopping with Hannah, who's in between sizes so it's impossible to find her anything. I have emptied cabinets and drawers. Sorted through toys and clothing. Packed away non-essentials. Earmarked what is to be sold or donated. Bought items so I don't have to leave the apartment when we move (but I'm sure this can only be wishful thinking on my part). And, I have spent time visiting my doctors for my check ups.

My days have been crazy. And that's putting it mildly.

A major saving grace at this point is heading off to the kitchen to bake. There's nothing like taking butter and sugar and mixing it up with a range of ingredients to come up with a yummy treat. The sound of my Kitchen Aid is so comforting to me because I know that in time, I can sink my teeth into a reward of sorts. Of course, I have come to terms with the fact that I can't eat what I make at this point for the sake of regulating my blood sugar, but when I am most fatigued, I think I deserve a break and sneak a bite or two of what was baked (don't tell my endocrinologist!).

So, what have I nibbled on recently?

These crisp, orange chocolate chip oatmeal cookies are enough for me to survive another day.

Orange-Walnut Chippers

1/2c APF
1/4t b. soda
1/4t salt
1/2c butter
1c packed light b. sugar
1 large egg
1T orange peel
1 1/2c old fashioned oats
1c chocolate chips
1/2c walnuts

Preheat oven to 375F. Grease cookie sheets.

Combine flour, b. soda and salt in a bowl.

Beat butter and sugar until light and fluffy. Add egg and orange peel. Add flour mixture. Scrape down bowl.

Stir in oats with a mixing spoon. Add chips and nuts.

Drop teaspoonfuls of dough 2 inches apart. Bake 10-12 minutes or until golden brown. Remove cookies and cool on a rack.

Meex

Enrique can bully me into baking, even when I'm exhausted. He follows me around asking, "meex? Meex?" and my heart melts. And when he hears the okay, he springs into action. He pushes the chair against the kitchen counter, grabs a spatula, and waits. He will measure out the sugar, name the ingredients as you take them out, and peer into the mixing bowl as you put them in. And when you finally turn the mixer on, he rests his hand on the mixer and watches the butter and sugar turn light and fluffy. He waits for the eggs to get added, and laughs when a flour cloud appears because I put in too much flour too fast. And when the mixing is done, he retreats back into his room and leaves me with the clean up, only to return when the cookies are done.

Smart kid.

Black Hole

I have a black hole in my home.

It has everything-old books and notebooks, empty packaging, boxes, outgrown and over sized clothes. Cards written a good 7 years ago. There are balls of every size and color, broken trucks and runaway marbles. Letters that need to find their way to the rest of the alphabet. Dominoes and flash cards. Crayons of every shade, pencils of varying lengths, and a multitude of erasers. Little abubots that leave you wondering what the heck that mommy was thinking giving them in loot bags. Neglected stuffed animals in search of a loving home, yet unable to do so because their eight and four year old masters cannot bear to part with them. So into a box they go. Every imaginable art material necessary to create a masterpiece. And yet, they wait for genius to come and transform them into something other than paint, or glitter, or wax. Legos under the bed, inside a drawer, mixed with other game pieces. Shoes that have walked their last. And a little step stool to find things and mix them all up again.

Its amazing what I've found and sorted, stashed away, and discarded from the black hole in my home.

Its been 3 days counting.

And I'm still not done.

Of Sanity and Apple Pie

Okay, I confess.

I'm not really a mother of four...yet. I'm about two months away from that title. But given that the bun in my oven is going to join our family really really soon, I might as well get used to the idea of being a Mother of Four.

Mother of Four. At this day and age. Sometimes the thought just scares me to absolute denial. No, this is not happening. No, I'm not going to go through the whole gestational diabetes shebang all over again. But, when I feel my baby kick and squirm and be a little alien inside, and think of the fun I have with my three other munchkins, I can't help but feel a little (no, a lot) excited. Never mind that I do have gestational diabetes (again!). Never mind that I have to prick myself before and after every meal. Never mind that I need to go on a strict diet to watch my sugar...no, wait...that, I DO mind. So let's just say I'm glad that I've got only two months to go before I pop this monkey out.

Which brings me to today. Because I cannot eat the food I want, I have subjected myself to reading about it online. Yes, it's the masochist in me. And today, I saw a luscious apple pie. And I knew that I just needed to bake it (if not eat it). So, I set off to the kitchen, grabbed the apples from my stash of fruit, and started peeling.

And my eight year old daughter walks in. And she wants to help. So, she gets the task of slicing all the apples. And while she's happily slicing away, I realize that she's growing up. She's changing. And all of a sudden, I'm extremely happy that I'm about to be a mother of four.