treat free

The other day Heath said she'd go "treat free" with me until Easter.

So, now I'm treat free. I'm on day two and I don't love it.

Hopefully by Easter, if I keep this up, I'll fit into my pre-pregnancy jeans without a muffin top.

That's the goal. If it doesn't work then there will be a baking frenzy for Easter.

There may be a baking frenzy either way.

I miss treats.

my baking frenemy and magic dust

I like to think I'm fairly handy in the kitchen. Mostly when it comes to baking. I love baking and my treats usually turn out delicious. Or so I like to tell myself.

That's not true, I'm my own worst critic, especially in the kitchen. So when things turn out all kinds of wrong, I'm the first to point all the flaws out. And when they turn out all tasty, I'm the first to praise myself.

Remember how I worked at a fancy bakery? And because I hadn't attended pastry school, nor was I an intern, I was assigned the easy tasks: cookies, cakes, brownies and frostings. Yeah, me too.

However, I've never had much luck making chocolate chip cookies at home. They typically turn out flat and crispy. Tasty, yes. But not much to look at. In fact, they usually look more like puddles of toffee with chocolate chip bumps. Sometimes I'd just pretend they were meant to be that way and pair them with ice cream. At least I was consistent with my outcome.

There are two recipes I've tried and tried to no avail: Jenny's and Emily Gold's. When they make their respective recipe, they are near unto perfection. They're slightly different (Emily's have some oats in them), but oh so delicious. And I have failed at every attempt to make them.

Jenny was pretty baffled by my inability to make cookies. We were roommates for a few years, she knew I could bake. I'm not sure I ever confessed to Emily that I couldn't make her cookies turn out right, but I complained to Jenny every time mine failed.

Back in December, before she fled the East Coast for warmer climes, we had a lesson. She came down to the land of the Garden State and taught me how to make her chocolate chip cookies. (In all actuality, she made the cookies and I asked her questions from the dining room while I watched the Teddy Bear eat dinner.)

And now I know how to make chocolate chip cookies! I made Jenny's recipe successfully on my own. And today I made Emily Gold's, successfully.

I was talking to Jaime the other day and confessed that I thought maybe Emily put magic dust in hers, since they're so good and have proved impossible to replicate. But I did it.

My problem? When a recipe calls for a measurement of packed brown sugar, I used to take that adjective very seriously and packed the measuring cup. We're talking lots of force to jam as much sugar in as possible. Jenny taught me otherwise.

And my belly is all the happier. (And bigger.)

Thanks Jenny!

all dressed up and ready for bed

Happy Leap Day: The Extended Version

score

If anyone is keeping track, Teddy totally won today.

He is adorable and that's a good thing. But my mild mannered baby who used to nap like a champ has started to nap for one hour a day. One. Hour. That's not even as long as it used to be if he only took one nap!

On days like that I'm not the most patient mom. I get no down time.

I think it would be much better if he was his pleasant, happy self all of those extra hours he's awake during the day. But he turns into a whiney, impatient, screechy, manic little guy. If his car is stuck in the garage and he can't get it out, it might be the end of the world. If I have the audacity to make him a meal and not feed him scraps like a dog in the process, it's definitely the end of the world.

So those extra awake hours are not exactly fun for any of us.

I'm sure it didn't help that he started the day by getting three vaccinations.

Bed time came early and I think it's better for everyone involved. Including Mr. Yin who, though he's not here all day to join in the fun, will benefit with some nice hot curry chicken when he gets home.

measuring up

Tiny Yin helping us hang our brown curtains. He's super helpful.

fitting in

We live in New Jersey.