You'd think that the 10 month old in the house would hold the title of "Drama Queen," but if you did, well, you'd be wrong. I've always been prone to melodrama, and although I have grown up an awful lot, it seems that I still have my moments. Ian came home from work and informed me that although the sink emptying onto the basement floor was bad, we would not end up living out of a shopping cart on 118th avenue by the end of the week. Thank God for him, really. If it werent for him, I'm sure that I would just be huddled up in a ball at the foot of the bed rocking. I am worried about when he goes out of time for work, who will calm me down? Who will keep me from over-reacting to just about everything? Who will keep me from seeing disaster in every day life?
This morning I'm watching the Food Network on TV. I watched it all day long, pretty much every day a year ago, when I was on bedrest, and I haven't watched it (except the occasional episode of Iron Chef) since Mary was born. It really is entertaining, although most of the recipies are far beyond me. Just now a woman made Creme Brulee (oh god, my mouth waters just typing the words), but really, who has a blow torch in their kitchen?? The only problem is that I get really hungry, and see all sorts of things that I don't see myself ever getting. Maybe when we get another house though, right now our kitchen is the size of your average bathroom. I have about a foot of counter space to work with, and any time I try to cook anything more complicated than rice, I end up getting extremely frustrated. I used to bake all the time, I loved to bake cookies, and occasionally I would bake bread, but not in this house. I'm going to have to borrow our neighbours kitchen for my cookie exchange and Marys birthday.