I have been absent from blogging. I'd like to say I've been overwhelmingly busy and doing all different varieties of awesomeness, but no... I've just been doing the same old same. But, I did make homemade cinnamon bread. Like for real homemade bread, with the yeast and the rising and the goopy goop on my hands that I typically detest. I felt like Laura Ingalls Wilder or at least like Melissa Gilbert before her battle with drugs and alcohol & plastic surgery. Anyway, it was so nice to create something that tasted good and made my house smell like Panera! And when it was done, I exclaimed with glee: I DID IT!!
We had a slice for breakfast. With our coffee. And a couple of slices of turkey bacon (and the pup had bacon, too, because even though she bites and barks nonstop at things that we can't even see, she's a good dog). I'm on a roll with my baking/cooking/pretending to be a good little kitchen witch.
I enjoy busying myself in the kitchen. And I adore watching the man that I love taste-test my cooking. It makes me feel like a good wifey to be able to prepare something tasty for my hubby.

kiss the cook!

It's been a little while since my last blog. (haha, sounds like I'm preparing for confession!)

Since my last blog, I've started a new tradition of making something homemade every Sunday. Trying to be more homemakery.

The first Sunday I started was after my last blog (7/25), and I made Pork Chops with peach salsa (SO YUMMY and I'll DEFINITELY make it again). My husband went back for seconds BEFORE I even got half way threw my dinner. We ate on the front porch, at our little table. With good conversation and a good glass of wine. Happiness! The hubs kept saying "this is like something we'd order at a restaurant! it's so good baby!!"
Since then, I've made: French toast (on 8/1); Ham and Cheese Omelets (8/8); Turkey Chimichangas (8/12; not a Sunday); homemade Pumpkin chocolate chip muffins (8/15, YUM); Homemade mac & cheese (8/18; not a Sunday); and homemade Strawberry Muffins with homemade Strawberry Butter (8/22).

I think my hubby is liking my new little tradition. And surprisingly enough, I LOVE it. I love chopping, mixing, measuring... I really like being in the kitchen. I've been doing all of my thinking in the kitchen lately. And I've had a lot to think about.

what's cookin'?

I'm never going to be the type of girl who makes homemade jam in my kitchen on a Saturday afternoon. I'm just not.

I am the kind of girl who loves to bake cakes and treats. I love filling up the bellies of my loved ones, but I think that perhaps, I'm not the best "homemaker".

Sometimes I wonder if I'm doing my husband an injustice. I stick with what I know (what I know that he likes). I don't venture too far off of my path.
But I wonder if I should? Maybe venture a little.
I want something new in my life, something exciting, something I can say, "see? see what I did?"

for now, I'll leave my jams to Smucker's. They've been doing it for so long now (since the 1800's!!), and they're good at it. Really good at it. Who doesn't love a PB&J with Smucker's? And plus, I hate when my kitchen has sticky stuff on the counter, and I'm willing to bet that if I were making homemade jam, there would be sticky stuff on the counter, me, and possibly even the pup.

I'm going to surprise myself (and maybe even you?) this weekend. I'm going to make something really good for my hubs. I don't know yet what it will be. But I'm going to do something I wouldn't normally do. I'm going to make myself into a little Susie Homemaker this weekend.


Note the look of confusion on her sweet little face.... I'm betting I will have the same bewildered look plastered across my face. You wanna know what she's thinking? She's probably thinking, "hmmm, should we just order Chinese?"

a period of waiting; pause, interval, or delay.

I'm not trying to conceive anymore.
I've decided to just wait, not quit, just wait.

Wait until we can say that we've celebrated our 5 year wedding anniversary.
Wait until my body works itself out
Wait until I've lost more weight (I'm down 17 lbs so far)
Wait until I have a stamp in my passport that says: Germany
Wait until my bank account is pregnant
Wait until my sister moves back to the states
Wait until all the babies that I know are all grown up
Wait until I'm so tired of waiting that I grow old and am unable to have any babies at all

I feel like I'm standing in a very long line waiting for my number to be called, but I'm in the wrong line, with the wrong ticket, in the wrong building, at the wrong time...

so, for now, we will wait. I will not take medications. So, this is where I am. I'm going to finish out 2010 with out urinating on anymore EPTs. I'm just going to enjoy my 4th year of marriage to a man who shows up at my work in the middle of a summer storm, in a white button down shirt and khaki pants, soaking wet, holding an umbrella so that I won't have to get soaked when I walk to my car. The man who surprises me with white and red roses, just because. The man who took me to see Eclipse TWICE and didn't mind that I drooled over Edward. The man who lets me cry in the crook of his arm because I miss my sister. The man who swears that every single meal I cook is "the best" he's ever had.
I don't think that a baby is "missing" from my life... a baby is just waiting.

questioning the ultimate question.

I'm sad to say, I feel that I've lost my way. I use to be so certain about faith, God, my spirituality. Unfortunately, somewhere along the line, I feel that it got too foggy. I am not so sure of faith, of life, of anything really. There are things that I feel sure about, like love. but, faith? Hope? I find it so much easier to have hope and faith for others. But not myself.
here was my "message from God" on Facebook today:

On this day God wants you to know...

... that when the night feels very long, remember that a new day is just around the bend. With each new day we are given new hope, new possibilities, new opportunities. Each new day is a miracle.

hmmm....

food for thought, no?

Don't read this if you don't want to read a woman rant and be bitter.

I had my appointment with the Endo yesterday. It had been over six months since I'd seen him last. I had left his off that day (in November) SO optimistic. He had felt so strongly, and had made me feel so certain, that I could get pregnant on my own (with out medication), and BY my next appointment. I was on cloud 9 when I left his office that day. Smiley. Friendly. Excited. He said I could cancel my follow up with him if I was pregnant. And I really felt like I would cancel that appointment. As the date approached and as I sat in the lab to have my blood drawn, I knew, I'm not going to be able to cancel this appointment. I already knew what the blood work would show, elevated testosterone, etc... I knew, and yet that little tiny part of me held on to the shred of hope that I was wrong. Maybe I really had tricked my body taking the birth control for so long. Maybe, JUST MAYBE, the time on the pill had made my body decide that it wanted to have more estrogen and less testosterone. Maybe I was CURED!

Nope.

Not even close. My testosterone level was not only elevated, it was DOUBLED; higher than it was pre-Yasmin. He said that I needed to think about seeing someone at a fertility clinic (as he does not prescribe the medication I will need). He said he would like to start me on a medication for insulin resistance (or whatever it is exactly), though not a medication that will aid ovulation (again, since he does not prescribe that).

So, this is where I am in my baby race. Apparently I'm not even in the race. Apparently, I'm sitting back, with my feet kicked up, watching everybody else race.

Apparently my ovaries belong in special Ed. They're too busy not doing anything to be bothered by making a family.

I'm sure my cousin who just gave birth will get knocked up again before me, hell, I'm sure her daughter will get knocked up before I do.

I don't remember that from sex ed class!

I just watched the documentary The Business of Being Born.

I was sobbing at the end, from the beauty of it, from the amazing blessing given to those women, and from my own indescribable ache.

My longing is suffocating. My desire is monumental. My ache is deep and vicious.

I recommend seeing the movie, even if you are dead set against home births, it's still a VERY interesting movie. With a lot of valuable information.

Not that I am any where close to delivering a baby (considering that first one must actually be able to get pregnant), but I've been thinking that I like the idea of midwifery. I don't want to be given pitocin or an epidrual. I don't want to be attached to an IV and unable to move. I don't know if I want to give birth laying down with my legs in stirrups. Of course I'm also not saying that I want to deliver a baby in my sleep number bed, either.
I need to get pregnant first, before I start coming up with a birth plan, I suppose.