Farts Are Funny

Heard Sophie's first laughs on two occasions this weekend. Both times it was right after she ripped a huge fart. My worst fears have come true. She has Mark's sense of humor.

This Is For The Birds

Maternity leave is over.  Yesterday was my first day back to work.
It's terrible.  The kids part is ok--I returned to lots of love notes,
we-missed-you-notes, and presents for Bitty.  It's the being-away-from-baby part that is making my heart ache.  Yesterday I was gone before Bitty awoke, returned at 5:15 with enough time to play  give her a bottle and then walk her around the house for about 30 minutes to keep her from fussing before it was time to get ready for bed.

Today, Bitty was again asleep when I left for work, and was sleeping for the night when I arrived back home at five (turns out the insomniac child only took three 30-minutes naps today). Which means I was able to spend, oh, ZERO time with her.  Unless you count the 90 minutes that I laid in bed with her just so I could hold her.
-sniff sniff-

I   **hate** work.


In other news . . .

The kids asked today if I was having another baby.

Me:  No, one baby is all I can handle right now.

Student:  Then why is your stomach still fat if there isn't a baby in there?


Looks like I need to step up the diet and exercise.

"Whir, Whir, Whir." What's That? Here Comes the Fashion Police

Well, Bitty is twelve weeks tomorrow, which means my maternity leave is drawing to an end.  And I am still two sizes larger than I was when this whole thing began.  I only know that because I decided to try on my work pants and they are not anywhere close to fitting.  Damn.  Now I need to buy fat pants.

But wait---maybe I should get some Pajama Jeans?  Function like fat pants without actually being fat pants?  Are these brilliant or too good to be true?  I need advice.  My wardrobe decisions for the past three months have involved contemplating which color velour tracksuit or yoga pants to wear for the day.  I don't trust my judgement.

Quinoa Salad

I am such a great hostess. ~tap, tap~ (that's me patting myself on the back).  I cooked so many meals while my sister was visiting.  She wanted the recipe for this Quinoa Salad that I made while she was here, so I said I would post it to the blog so it looks like I haven't been slacking on my February posts.

Quinoa Salad:
1/2 cup quinoa
1 cup water
1 diced green pepper
1 1/2 cups shredded carrots
1/4 cup minced sun-dried tomatoes
2 T. feta

Dressing:
2 tsp. dijon mustard
1 T. red wine vinegar
1 tsp. olive oil

1.  Rinse quinoa prior to cooking.  Combine water in quinoa in a saucepan and boil.  Reduce heat, cover, and simmer about 10 minutes until the liquid is absorbed.

2.  Whisk dressing ingredients together in a small bowl.  Season with salt and pepper.

3.  Combine quinoa with green pepper, carrots, and tomatoes in a bowl.  Stir in dressing.  Top individual servings with a bit of feta.

Tips:
*Red quinoa holds up better in the cooking process and is better for salads.

*Don't forget to rinse the quinoa quite well, even if the package says it's pre-rinsed.  This gets rid of the bitter-tasting saponins, which also cause sort of an unsightly soapy film when the quinoa is cooked.

*Use some oil from the sun-dried tomato jar for the dressing.

*I like to reduce the vinegar and add more mustard for the dressing; adjust it to your own preference.

You Know There's a Problem When Steve Urkel Would Tell You To Get A Life

Uh Oh.  I am sliding down a slippery slope in the world of facebook.  I never wanted to be one of those moms who *only* post about their baby, but that is EXACTLY what I have been doing.

Blog posts about babies=ok.  This is essentially a baby blog, after all.

Facebook posts about babies all the time=lame.

I really don't want to seem like I don't have a life outside of caring for my child.  But the truth is that I don't.  I don't have anything to say that does not relate to this baby.  This is a problem.  I need to do something about this.  I need to get a life, ASAP.  Which also happens to be extremely difficult with an almost-three-month-old.  Last night my sister, visiting from San Antonio, babysat while Mark and I had date night.  We went out to dinner and were gone for exactly one hour before returning.  Because we couldn't stand to be away from Bitty?  No, because we were tired and wanted to go to bed.  This "getting a life" thing is going to be harder than I thought.