::crossing arms and pouting::
So mature, right? I am just tired of it. The movers are scheduled, I convinced Brian to take a day off of work (he still has a conference call in the morning, but I consider this a success of epic proportions), and the house is slowly being packed away. So, there has been great progress. But I feel (probably like you do) that this has been draggggginnnggg on for months. And I just need a break.
So I'm taking one.
Overall, I wouldn't consider myself a huge procrastinator. I've certainly gotten better since my college days, where you would likely find me burning the midnight hour in order to cram for a test or finish a paper. But when you live with 45 other girls, it's sooo easy to procrastinate. I think my friend Liz and I even turned it into an art form. We would just wander from room to room, seeing who was busy or who else we could lure into our web of laziness. We played with candles a lot. (lots of melted wax on the carpet...) We laid around a lot. We spied on the fraternity that lived behind us. I pulled weeds in our garden while Liz sat there and kept me company. We watched many movies. And then, in probably the most grand of all procrastination activities, we convinced the rest of the sorority to play Sardines in the Science Center at 10pm. (I think Krista might have been in on this one, too). Sardines, for those of you who don't know, is the opposite of 'Hide and Seek;" one person hides, and the rest of the group has to find them. Except when you find them, you join them in their hiding spot. The last person to find everyone loses, and has to be the next 'Sardine'. (and if you hide in a small spot - or have a game involving 30+ college women - things can get a bit cramped.)
Ahh, good times.
I don't have anyone to play Sardines with out here. I can't even play with candle wax since I don't want to get it on my floor. So, I'm left to blogging, planning Tiffany's bachelorette party (next weekend!), and coming up creative ideas for baby food. Oh yeah, I should probably pack a box or two.
Hmph. Stupid boxes.
Anyways, I'm kind of proud of my latest baby food creation. We have officially started meats, and last week, I gave Scotty some cooked chicken thighs. The little tyke ate them, but blech. Maybe this is what accounted for his food strike? I could barely spoon the pureed mixture into his mouth since it looked like and smelled like Emma's food. Gross.
So on Monday, I made the executive decision that my child was not going to consume foods that resemble cat food. So I purchase two lovely organic chicken breast (bone-in, skin still on) and set about roasting them in a little olive oil, kosher salt, and cracked black pepper. When they were done, I discarded the bones and skin and chopped the chicken into itty-bitty pieces. And tossed it with a little Greek yogurt and some organic tarragon and viola! Baby chicken salad. (I normally also add green grapes and celery, but thought they might be choking hazards.) So, I'm happy that Scotty will actually be eating something that looks appetizing AND is also chock full of protein.
Okay, I feel like I worked my procrastination out. I'm ready to go tackle another box. Wish me luck. And go play a game of Sardines if you get a chance -- it's really fun!