I'm halfway through Danny's yearly Birthday Quilt, I have a batch of Lebkuchen dough chilling in the fridge, the Christmas cards are written, the presents are (mostly) finished, and all that's left is baking the Birthday cake and making the Periodic table out of individual decorated sugar cookies. Yes, I am starting to freak out, thanks for noticing. Add to this plans for nearly every day from now until New Year's day. I'm getting my teeth cleaned Thursday morning at 7:30 AM as that was the only time I could fit in-but I'm really looking forward to it as I will have about 40 minutes where I'm unable to do anything except shut my eyes and listen to the soothing sound of plaque being chiseled off enamel. If that ain't relaxation, I don't know what is.
What was I thinking, having a baby five days before Christmas? I mean, he was two weeks early but that turned out to be an unnecessary c-section. Have I told this story before? I went for an ultrasound and everyone began freaking out that I was having some sort of gigantic baby and that I needed to have a section ASAP or he'd get stuck, etc. They measured him at over ten pounds.
Yeah, ultrasounds are only as good as the people reading the scan. Danny was a whopping 6 lbs. 11 oz. at birth. That's pretty well outside the typical margin of error for reading scans. Anyway, if I'd known what a pain in the arse a birthday right before Christmas would be, I might have risked giving birth to Shamu the Killer Whale. I still imagine the technician staring at the scree, and groaning about the difficulty of maths.
Sorta-related:
Someone searched for, "Gingerbread St. Basils" and for a moment I got all excited, and wanted to try it. St. Paul's Cathedral was an accomplishment, but St. Basils? Complete with colourfully decorated onion domes-all from gingerbread? Oh my god, I was so tempted. I don't think I will-I'm pretty sure I won't...probably. Nah, I really shouldn't.
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