Breakfast

I cook breakfast. Not every day, but at least once or twice a week.

My husband gets tired of having toast every morning for breakfast so I try to mix it up for him on a somewhat regular basis. I don't cook breakfast all the time but we all seem to eat a bigger meal if I actually make something. Pancakes, waffles, french toast, baked oatmeal - it's all fair game; buttermilk, blueberry, pumpkin - variations are welcome.

Yesterday morning we tried a recipe I found here. Oatmeal waffles. The batter looked a little suspicious and I warned my husband that I didn't know how they were going to turn out and that I would never make them again if they were horrible. But to our surprise and delight, they were delicious. "Baked oatmeal in waffle form" was the verdict as my husband inhaled his breakfast. 

Apparently the recipe now has a permanent home in the cookbook. And I would love to be able to show you what our breakfast looked like but alas, my camera's cord is residing 4 hours from here and so pictures will be absent for a while. So, you'll just have to use your imagination. 

Mmmmm.... steaming waffles with a light coating of buttermilk syrup.... light and fluffy but yet substantial and filling.... mmmmmm.... waffles....

25 weeks and counting

Update: 
I now have only 13 weeks to go. I have gained over 20 lbs and am feeling pretty darn good. What's changed? I found out that my back troubles were more than likely caused by my hips spreading to accommodate the baby and my muscles were protesting. That and my posture was pretty poor. So, with the help of a few stretches, my muscles have loosened and my back troubles are no more. And with that, dish washing is back in my repertoire. Whooohooo....

Hi, my name is Joelle and I am pregnant.

Or should I say that my husband and I are expecting a baby?

Either way, regardless of your preference or mine, I am indeed growing a baby. And one that is continually taking up more space. Demanding little bugger!

I've had quite a few people ask me how I'm feeling and if this pregnancy feels different than my first. Let me try and tackle these questions here so that you don't have to wonder any more.

I'm feeling pregnant. I have a being kicking me, rolling inside me and generally putting pressure on organs (and ribs) that should never feel pressure. I am now to the point in my pregnancy where everything is getting more difficult. No more bending over to put on my socks and shoes, no more sitting comfortably for long periods of time, no more clothes that fit right. Oh, and after discovering that it was washing dishes that was causing the pain in my lower back, no more dish washing for me!

This is my second pregnancy. My body was in a different shape after my first pregnancy and probably never regained the same muscle tone that I had possessed before the birth of my first child. Also, I have a too-cute toddler running around my house that I am supposed to try to keep up with. So, in answer to your question, YES, this pregnancy feels different. But some things do stay the same: the joy of hearing my baby's heartbeat, the contentedness I feel as the baby kicks and the thrill of the roller-coaster-stomach-drop as the baby rolls around in its home. Those things are the same and I still enjoy them.

And on that note, this is my current state:

And while I was waiting for the camera to take this picture, I realized just how much I actually do fill out this shirt. This one will soon be in the "too small" pile... and so it goes.

Hammer & Nails

As mentioned in a previous post, our son likes to do whatever we are doing with whatever tool we are using to do it. This does not just apply to kitchen items, but applies to household items as well. 

As we are still in the midst of renovating our house, household items often include a hammer and nails. 

Which means our son has grasped the concept of what to do with hammer and nails and makes sure he gets a chance to try out these particular concepts. He is surprisingly good at it, too! He isn't strong enough to hammer very hard but he can lift the hammer and knows that he is supposed to be hitting the nail on its head.

Did I mention that he HAS to use Dad's hammer? No other hammer is the same...

Snow

This time of year, we live in the land of snow. Or the great white north. Whichever you prefer to call it. Regardless, there is snow on the ground and will be until April. Welcome winter.

This is the first winter that our son has been aware of. He was born at the end of winter and last winter he was too concerned about getting mobile to pay attention to the white stuff outside. But this winter? He is well aware of snow, cold and all the accessories that come along with it. Like his boots. And his snowsuit. And mitts. And toques. And he isn't a big fan of any of them. Oh, he likes to wear his boots around the house. And he doesn't mind getting dressed in his snowsuit because it has something to do with being able to go outside but he just doesn't like being outside in all the get up. And who can blame the kid? Really, who likes being dressed up like a big marshmallow and then told to go play? The kid can barely walk on the shovelled driveway, let alone in the snow without listing to one side and then falling over.

So, what does he do? He eats snow.

He eats it off his mitts.

He eats it off the carpet by the door after it has been tracked in on our boots.

And he eats it out of a bowl.

A bowl full of snow that I went out and got for him, begrudgingly, wondering what kind of kid ASKS for a bowl of snow to eat.

And is completely satisfied to have it plopped in front of him and to be able to eat it.

Who knew?

Baking

Our son likes to do whatever we are doing. And he wants to use what we are using when we do what we do. For example, my husband has been trying his hand at baking bread. Our son has to be in the kitchen, stirring the pot, preferably the one his dad is using. I usually diffuse this particular situation by just letting the kid help me but seeing as how Dad is still learning the art of baking bread, we gave the kid his own bowl of flour to stir.

And that is about as long as that lasted. 

Who'd be happy with a bowl of flour when there is a great big bowl of bread dough right beside you?!

Talking on the Phone

So, we finally figured out the secret to getting our son to "talk" on the phone. All day long he'll talk on his cell phone, yammering away about who knows what, but as soon as we put the real phone to his ear and he could hear a voice on the other end, he'd smile sweetly and become mute. Hmph.

This is my son talking on the phone to his Grandma Karen:

Did you notice that he was in the middle of telling her a story. The boy didn't even notice the camera.

And then he noticed it.

And then he wanted it.

But it doesn't really matter because I got the pictures I wanted and he got to talk on the phone like he wanted. The secret? Don't let the person on the other end talk.

It'll get him every time.

Sigh.

Nothing warms my heart as much as seeing my two boys playing together:

And both of them having a good time.

Too cute

This is how badly my son wanted my camera:

Can you hear him saying, "Please, pretty please, Mom?"? I hope so, because all I heard was, "Give me the toy, Mom, I want to fix it with my hammer".

Either way, sometimes he is just too cute for his own good.