Consolidation

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Embrita Blogging

This just might lead to more regular updates....right?

Some fears...about boys.

I'm just going to vocalize this one a lot, because the more I talk about it the better I'll feel, right?

I was all set to have a girl. It's no secret. I understand girls. I know what to do with girls. Granted, a lot of my friends are boys. Always have been. I was a tomboy. So it's not like I won't know what to do at the park with my son.

But puberty. The teenage years...when you truly start to become who you're going to be. That's when things start to go all wonky.

There are things I'll be able to cope with, even if they're not my first choice:

Being a slacker stoner kid.
(Really, would I be the pot or the kettle there? Not that I was a stoner, but I certainly held tight to "slacker." I also own that hat.)

Football. I guess you really just want them to be happy, right? (This is Tony Romo, btw.)

Alex P. Keaton. If Steve has any say, you know he'll have the wardrobe at least.

There are things I'm going to try and (wink)indoctrinate:

Chris Sharma. We climb. It just the lifestyle. This is actually what makes me think Slacker Stoner Kid is likely...have you hung out with climbers lately?

J.J. Reddick. Duke Basketball is just a way of life here. College ball, really. So if he decides to go rogue and picks UConn or something I'll still love him. Promise. I'll even go to games.

Tony Hawk. Drool.

Andy Roddick. We suck at tennis so it isn't so much a way of life, but I really like it and if he shows interest I'll encourage it.

There are things Steve will try and (wink) indoctrinate:

Lance Armstrong.
If there were a chance for a Yellow Jersey, Steve might actually weep with joy. At the very least, at the rate he streams Time Trials and and races and shops for bikes...there's no avoiding exposure.

This is both of us. Steve will just be the role model of the man in the kitchen. We are foodies.

The Dandy Warhols...specifically Courtney Taylor-Taylor. I would be the indoctrinator...but Guitar Hero doesn't count as being musical. Even if I have unlocked Shirley Manson.

(I should add that I am in no way saying that the only way I'll love my son is if he's a pro...any of these things. Avid hobbyists enjoy life just as much...and I'd be willing to argue that sometimes they enjoy the sport/whatever more because there's less pressure. If he grows up to be an investment banker because he loves numbers then more power to him.)


And then there's this...




At which point we will tie him to a chair and give him an intervention.

Why? You ask? Because he's protesting?

No. Go First Amendment!

Because he's speaking his mind?

No. Again - first amendment. And really - any child of mine is going to be opinionated and will let you know.

It's because he needs a history lesson. And a civics lesson. And a lesson in...reality... (I'll give you a hint: all of those adjectives are mutually exclusive. So being all of those things would be a neat trick. And confusing.)

Willful ignorance will be met with an iron fist in our house. There can be dissent but you better do your research before you have t-shirts and signs made.



Of course...I'm doing all of this premature freaking out and the reality is that our son will turn out just like this:

Shameless

It's shameless, really. The motivation for today's post.

I'm entering AN ONLINE CONTEST. A BLOG contest. I *NEVER* do that.

Ok, I do, but I can count on one hand the other times that I have. Once. The Pioneer Woman was giving away the camera body I'm lusting after and saving up for...I couldn't resist.

And now - my favorite Daddy Blog (Pacing The Panic Room: source of the awesome Maternity Series) - the one I make Husband read and pass along to people who want a man's perspective on things - is giving away a whole stash of Fuzzibunz. That's right. I'm entering a contest to win cloth diapers.

Why? Because in January, when Sebastian arrives, we're going to need to cover his ass. And I've already registered for them - but winning an entire stash would allow me to remove them from my registry and my list of Things To Make Sure We Have Enough Of and relax because Bunny's ass will be covered.

It will also make me feel better for being almost 22 weeks along and still having All-Day Morning sickness.

So there we have it. A post purely for the hope of winning diapers.

And now back to our regularly scheduled narcissism.

Strawberry Lemonade

Apparently, along with cravings, nausea, fatigue, odd swelling, and forgetfulness - pregnancy also causes ADD.

I was Nesty before I got knocked up (shocking, I know. See the Embrita Blog for proof) and I keep waiting for some kind of over-drive nesting to kick in. I think what's happening instead is that I just can't focus long enough to finish a single project. I hope that goes away soon.

So halfway through my Hang-Shelves and Baby Proof to Office project (it will appear on the Embrita Blog if I get my act together and post it) I decided that Bunny needs strawberry lemonade. I hit the trusty Smitten Kitchen site and altered her Watermelon Lemonade Recipe.

It's really tasty. And Easy.

Lemons, juiced
(I only used 6 of these)

+

Strawberries, pulverized (in handy chopper)

+
Simple Syrup. I didn't take a picture of it because it looks like dirty water in a measuring cup. (Lazy girls simple syrup: put 1/2 c sugar in pyrex. Add 1/2c boiling water. Stir until dissolved. Let cool. Add to pitcher.)

+

Water to taste

=

Strawberry Lemonade.

Enjoy!