From swollen, angry gums, to fits of frustration and pain acted out on the floor, Lucas's two year molars are finally making their appearance. At almost two and a half, I had began to wonder if he simply didn't have that last set of molars, but then someone reminded me that Lucas has always been a late bloomer, especially when it comes to his teeth. And crawling and walking. Lucas likes to do things in his own time, and I have learned many times that when I push him, and push him too hard, that rebellious two-year old nature will rear up, ready for any and every battle. So I try not to push too much. For his sake, I do hope that he will out grow this "late-bloomer"ness or else his pre-teen years and teens are going to be peppered with heartache. Say a prayer for my little guy, will you?
Jumping subjects entirely, because I'm a woman and I can do that, this weekend I have come to accept a side of me that has been hidden for many years and only raises itself during wedding season and baby showers. Here it is folks: I love shower food. No really, I LOVE shower food. Tiny sandwiches filled with homemade chicken salad or pimento cheese, fruit trays with scrumptious dips just ready for dunking, and the punch, oh the punch, I could drink it every day! I don't think I've ever found a punch that I don't like. You're probably wondering how I came to this realization, aren't you? Well over the weekend, I got to be a part of preparing/hosting a bridal shower for my future sister in law. Days of preparation went into this gloriously traditional event and the end result was nothing less than Martha Stewart perfect. Of course there were leftovers, because as women we always prepare too much food because the thought of running out of food makes us crazy. Oh the leftovers. I've been munching on them ever since. Come to think of it, I don't believe I've eaten a complete meal since breakfast yesterday that didn't involve some type of finger food.
So it is with joy in my heart that I raise my punch glass (yes, I am drinking some right now) and say thank you to all of the woman who worked so hard to provide me with tiny thrills like ham biscuits and chocolate fountains with strawberries and pound cake and pineapple dip and .....oh wait, this shower wasn't for me, was it? Ummm.... To the tradition of wedding showers. May I be invited to countless more during this pregnancy so that perhaps people will look the other way when I pile my paper plate with all the bit-sized delicacies that bring joy to my ever growing tummy.
Jumping subjects entirely, because I'm a woman and I can do that, this weekend I have come to accept a side of me that has been hidden for many years and only raises itself during wedding season and baby showers. Here it is folks: I love shower food. No really, I LOVE shower food. Tiny sandwiches filled with homemade chicken salad or pimento cheese, fruit trays with scrumptious dips just ready for dunking, and the punch, oh the punch, I could drink it every day! I don't think I've ever found a punch that I don't like. You're probably wondering how I came to this realization, aren't you? Well over the weekend, I got to be a part of preparing/hosting a bridal shower for my future sister in law. Days of preparation went into this gloriously traditional event and the end result was nothing less than Martha Stewart perfect. Of course there were leftovers, because as women we always prepare too much food because the thought of running out of food makes us crazy. Oh the leftovers. I've been munching on them ever since. Come to think of it, I don't believe I've eaten a complete meal since breakfast yesterday that didn't involve some type of finger food.
So it is with joy in my heart that I raise my punch glass (yes, I am drinking some right now) and say thank you to all of the woman who worked so hard to provide me with tiny thrills like ham biscuits and chocolate fountains with strawberries and pound cake and pineapple dip and .....oh wait, this shower wasn't for me, was it? Ummm.... To the tradition of wedding showers. May I be invited to countless more during this pregnancy so that perhaps people will look the other way when I pile my paper plate with all the bit-sized delicacies that bring joy to my ever growing tummy.
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