Yesterday I took two naps, one of them two hours long.
For dinner, I made tacos. I ate six of them.
This morning I read Mary Oliver and watched the light grow.
Last week Cedar and I made his birthday cake. This one, with raspberries in place of the ollalieberries, and a couple handfuls of white chocolate chips thrown in to the cake batter, for fun. (We also tried the two pan thing, not three. I liked it better. Requires way more berries though for filling.) He dictated how to decorate it: buttercream dots and a spiral. I don't know where he got this idea.
He's four years old now. This was him one year ago, barely venturing. Now look at him. All that 'tude. He wanted streamers at his party like Mara had, but he was clear about there being absolutely no balloons (they pop and freak him out).
Apart from the party? There has been a couple versions of the fruited buckwheat cake I've grown attached to (coming soon). There has been watermelon. And underneath it all I have noticed a deep thankfulness that I do not have choosing power for a) the sex of the babe and b) the timing of its arrival. Because I vacillate my preferences from day to day and hour to hour: wouldn't it be nice to get this other thing done first? wouldn't it be nice to let someone else worry about it later?
It hit me yesterday though that the babe really is immanent. I've been going to the chiropractor every two weeks for a while now, and yesterday, instead of shaking my hand and saying, "see you in two weeks," he gave me a hug and said, "good luck," and "we're here when you need us." Interpretation: in all likelihood you will have the baby in the next two weeks, and it's silliness to plan otherwise. Call for an appointment when you've come up for air.
So I should probably admit it now: I have no idea how the blog will flow post-baby. I have some plans, some friends to introduce to you who have some recipes to share. But even that takes a bit of clarity and brainpower. I don't remember having either for at least three weeks after Cedar, or maybe that was three months. I don't think I left the house for that long. And I don't recall cooking anything but toast until I made my first attempt at this Christmas cake. That was after four months.
So we'll see.