I Can't Stand It: I Have To Share

It's time for some gratuitously cute photos.

I got a new camera for Christmas, and it has made me into a MUCH BETTER photographer. I love it. I took it to the pool yesterday, and managed a few photos before the battery ran flat (for the first time, I should mention). At this time in my pregnancy (seven weeks to go), I should be doing all sorts of nesting things, but a very low ferritin level is keeping me exhausted. However, I woke up this morning with a SUDDEN AND MASSIVE URGE TO NEST. RIGHT NOW.

For the last couple of months, I've been knitting like crazy, since I've been so tired, and unable to do much else. When I was eight months pregnant with Oliver, I built him a bed. But I don't have any power tools here, which is just as well, what with the heat and my exhaustion, so I've been knitting. During the first trimester, morning sickness made me feel like I was carsick if I watched the needles, and since I need to watch the needles, I couldn't knit without wanting to puke, so I've been trying to make up for lost time.

However, today it's no longer enough. So this morning, I dragged a cupboard into the bedroom for baby's things, wiped it down, arranged the baby things we have (and that I bought last week, but Mom, don't worry, the cupboard isn't even a third full), and now am frantically searching for patterns to knit. I can't decide if Ravelry is my saviour, or just feeding my obsession. Either way, it's the Best Thing Ever.

But what has prompted this sudden determination to organize, clean and tidy all baby's things?? I even decanted some moisturizer into a little travel bottle to put into my new Crabtree & Evelyn toiletry bag. I haven't washed any of baby's clothes yet, because it's been too early, and there are still seven weeks to go, but suddenly the urge is upon me.

And with that cleaning/organizing urge is an irresistible compulsion to knit ALL MY YARN. EVERY SINGLE METER OF IT, which could, conceivably, take about seven years, even staying up until 3 am every night as I have been.

Whoa. The rambling. It's the panic talking. Duncan got rid of most of our baby clothes a year or so ago. I said, "But what if we have another baby?" And he said, "You'll buy more stuff." You know Duncan, right? Clearly he didn't think that through entirely. But I haven't bought too much, and today I went through the box of clothes we still have, and... there's NOTHING FOR NEWBORNS IN THERE.

OMG, the PANIC. And there's no shopping here (okay, a Target Country, but what's the point of THAT?). The day trip to Perth last week nearly did me in, but I think I'm going to have to plan another trip because THERE'S NO SHOPPING HERE and THERE'S NOTHING FOR NEWBORNS IN THAT BOX.

I'm going to hyperventilate in a minute.

But I digress. My thought processes are scrambled by hormones and heat. Please forgive me. Onto the photos.

Oliver, who a week ago loved the water, but did not want to be horizontal in it, even with support, has taught himself, seemingly in one day, how to do the crawl:



... and how to dive:



Now, if only Duncan had shaken the center part from his hair (and let me pick out his swim shirt), that photo would be PERFECT. Duncan says he'd like to be airbrushed out, so Oliver looks like he's just coming in for a water landing.

And this one, well, this one is stressful on my pregnant hormones. I think it's the shadow of his toes that pushes me over the edge:



I'm definitely getting that one blown up to poster size.

Recipe: Grandpa Ed's Waffles

As I mentioned, Leander and I both went to the doctor on Tuesday. My appointment was great: we heard the baby's heartbeat, even though the doctor said it was a bit early and he wasn't sure if we would, and it was a "nice, strong heartbeat." Also cool was the fact that I still haven't gained any weight. At 21 weeks pregnant, I am nine pounds lighter than I was at five weeks pregnant. I'm only losing the weight I gained during Oliver's pregnancy, and the doctor is completely happy with the state of my health.

Leander and I both needed blood tests. Mine was to check up on a previously low iron level, and Leander's were for everything but the prostate screening, I think. We're a little concerned that with his limited diet, he might be missing some nutrients. It's been two years since he was diagnosed with CSID, and he's been a little tired lately, not quite himself. Also, fructose can build up in the liver like alcohol, and since that's the sugar he uses every day, it's a good idea to have a liver function test done.

Our tradition is that if you get a needle stuck in you, Mommy buys you something at the toy tore, mostly because Mommy is a sucker. Because Leander is the one who always gets the horrible things done to him, he's the one who gets all the treats. The other two understand this, though they would like to get the treats, too. They agree, though, that it's not worth getting poked with a needle.

But Leander said, this time, "Can we buy three treats, so Eddie and Oliver can have one, too?"

Which opens up all sorts of philosophical avenues.

If they all get treats, it kind of defeats the point of the treat. And will the other two start hoping Leander gets poked with a needle so they can have a new little tractor?

But Leander himself has requested equal treats for his brothers, and I hate to discourage that kind of philanthropic spirit.

What to do?

We've been talking about buying an ice cream machine, because ice cream is one of the boys' favorite things, and there's a place in Hilarys that makes one with fructose (for diabetics, which I don't quite understand, but I'm no dietitian). But it's $12 a liter, and it's made with soy milk, to cover lots of dietary requirements. I'm not so big on the soy milk. Also, it's hard for us to get, being in Hilarys and all. So after a month or two of batting the idea around, I made the executive decision to order the ice cream maker. Wandering around the appliance store while the guy was on the phone with another customer, I passed a waffle maker, one that makes a flower of five hearts. My dad gave me one like that for my birthday one year. I've never understood why he bought me a waffle maker, but he picked it out all by himself, and maybe I liked it even more because of the mystery. I couldn't bring it to Australia because of the power thing, and it's one of the few bits we left behind that I really miss.

That was way too much detail about why I wanted a waffle maker all of a sudden.

Anyway, the boys love pancakes, the American way, that is: for breakfast, hot, with maple syrup and bacon on a lazy Sunday morning. So I asked Leander if we should get a waffle maker for everyone as the treat. He happily agreed. We had waffles for dinner that night, but the waffle recipe in the waffle maker box was a bit floppy, not crispy like I like them.

Today, nearly eleven years after my dad died, I cried all the way back from the next town over. I think it was triggered by extreme exhaustion, and thinking of the daughter of the electrician I like so much. I saw her yesterday, and the obvious affection with which she spoke of her father made my eyes leak, though I blamed it on pregnancy hormones to cover my embarrassment. My dad was an electrician, too, and I miss him just as much now as I have for the last eleven years.

On that half-hour drive today, it occurred to me, for the first time, that my father must have thought, at some point in his life, about the fact that he would be 87 when I was 37, and that the odds of him knowing me for much more than thirty years were pretty slim.

That makes me incredibly sad.

So in honor of my father, who I think about every day, we're having waffles again tomorrow morning, and here's my own recipe in all its nut-free, egg-free, sucrose-free glory:

2 cups flour
4 tbsp dextrose
1 tsp baking soda
1 tbsp lemon juice
1¾ cups milk
4 tbsp melted butter
a dollop of glucose

Melt butter, milk and glucose together. I'm not listing a measurement for glucose, because you could spend a LOT of time trying to get it to cooperate while you try to measure it. Be sure to melt it, though, since otherwise you'll have a lot of semi-sweet waffles, and one glucose-waffle.

Sift dry ingredients.

Add butter, milk and lemon juice to dry ingredients and mix well. Allow to rest for ten minutes.

Pour by 1/4 cupfuls onto medium hot waffle maker and cook until nicely brown. Serve with real maple syrup for the people who can handle sucrose, and with Karo syrup for the people who can't.

Stay tuned for an ice cream recipe, though there will no doubt be a fair bit of trial and error involved in that one...

1) Why Stop At Three When We Could Go For A Whole Back Line

2) Old Navy has all these cool maternity clothes; it's a whole section of shopping I've been missing out on.

3) My favorite half-sister has been complaining that I don't blog often enough, and I needed something else to talk about.

4) Tiffany makes a rattle we don't have. Actually, they make two. Did I say two? I meant three.

5) We have to eat all the meat that hasn't sold, and some days we could use another mouth (and stomach) to help.

6) Because we already have a plumber, a builder, and an electrician, but we need a butcher as well so we can retire into that fancy house.

7) When I had Oliver, I asked the doctor to check on the state of my uterus. He said it was fine, and to "keep havin' em." So really I'm just following doctor's orders.

8) With the two business, three children, two dogs, and all the school sports, etc, etc, I still find myself with some free hours between midnight and four a.m., and thought I'd like something to keep me busy then.

9) We've had them on the other two continents on which we lived. Of course, it might be hard to follow this tradition when we retire to Ireland.

10) We now live in a country that will pay us for it. How could we not take advantage of that? Really, it's just the financially responsible thing to do.