#50

So I have been meaning to post that I finished my 50 books in 2009 resolution a couple weeks ago. How difficult could it be to add three more titles to my list? Very difficult. No matter, this is one resolution I managed to keep.

Now I just have to convince myself that even though I finished 50 books I have to keep reading because 1. it makes me sane 2. it's better than mindless web surfing and 3. I have so many unread books in my apartment that are begging to have their pages turned. Especially the new Diana Gabaldon novel in my favorite series ever.

The final three books were as follows:

Charlaine Harris' "From Dead to Worse." You know, Sookie Stackhouse has been utterly ruined for me by watching half of the first season of the HBO series True Blood. What a yucky series. I gave it up halfway through.

Wally Lamb's "The Hour I first Believed." Not particularly uplifting, but Wally is a wonderful narrator. He draws you though a story like a needle in cloth.

Finally, "However Tall the Mountain" by Awista Ayub. It's a non fiction book that a friend lent me about a bunch of Afghan girls who play soccer. Nice to end my reading project on a hopeful note.

But really, I need to keep on reading even though it is so hard to sit down and concentrate right now. My mind is going like ping pong balls--buying a house--having a baby--busy at work--going home in November--getting an onward assignment--and on and on and I'm lying awake at 11 pm thinking about how, "I really need to take Bee to visit her daycare the first Friday I am home so she isn't too nervous the first day and blah blah blah." Really, I need to get my mind to just quiet the heck down. Books are good for that. And cheaper than therapy. So maybe I should go for sixty books in 2009.

Cornucopia

Autumn has arrived and we have been doing fall-ish activities like baking a pumpkin and making leaf rubbings. It all sounds very idyllic unless you know that I have been knocked out--flat on my back--sick as a dog for the past two days.

My third trimester of pregnancy arrived with a particular vengeance: Thursday night stomach flu. There is nothing quite like lying on the bathroom floor, puking your guts out and worrying about going into preterm labor at the same time. But fortunately, I didn't and am finally feeling better today, which means only mildly nauseous. But really, it's not a good idea to get the stomach flu and lose 6 pounds in 12 hours when you are a hungry pregnant mother. I feel sick, yet am starving. Not an enjoyable contrast.

But the weekend must be saved. Before I go back into the malestrom of my workweek, Bee and I have been trying to do some quiet autumn activities together. Last night, I swapped out the books in her reading corner for autumn and bear themed stories. She was very excited this morning to discover a whole new array of reading material and was content occupied the whole time my dear husband was making French toast. And since he was making an entire loaf of bread (not sure why he made so much for just him and Bee, as I had regular toast) it took quite a while.

After breakfast, Bee and I checked on the leaves that we had collected last week. I had pressed them under some heavy books last weekend because we planned on making leaf rubbings. This project stems (excuse my pun) from a horrible little book called "Leaves, Leaves, Leaves!" that I ordered through Amazon.com.

I like ordering children's books from Amazon, because you can generally preview the first couple pages and make sure that the text is not insipid. For this one however, I was lured in by the "buy four paperbacks, get one free" promotion and added it to my cart on a whim. The cover seemed cute. All about leaves. What I didn't know is that is nearly 50 pages of the scientific life cycle of a leaf told out through a conversation between a mother bear and baby bear. As in the baby bear asks, "What's chlorophyll Mommy?" And then the Mommy bear makes a scientific chart to explain.

Anyway, we read it once and I was sure that would be the end of it, as it was so boring, but to my complete dismay, it's Bee's new favorite book. Evidently she is a budding (oh the puns) scientist. We have read it as her bedtime story for 7 out of the past 10 nights. But anyway, the bears collect leaves in the book and so that's what Bee and I did last week. Now pressed and dried, we spent the morning making leaf rubbings. Or I should say I rubbed, and Bee decorated. They look cute.

So this afternoon, after Bee naps (or does not nap but hides out in her room rearranging the furniture) we will make pumpkin bread. I had a particular craving for pumpkin bread about three weeks ago, and checked my cupboard to discover I had no canned pumpkin left. So I begged my mother to send me some. She did (as she has been wonderful about mailing me every strange pregnancy craving I have had this year, just ask her about the canned clams). And as she emphasized, it wasn't ordinary canned pumpkin, but Trader Joe's organic canned pumpkin.

However, while the canned pumpkin was winging its way from America to Romania, we discovered that fresh pumpkins had arrived in the market. We couldn't resist, as we found a glorious light orange ten pounder--these are not your American jack-o-lanterns but hearty "feed a family of ten" Romanian pumpkins. I baked it (in halves, cut side down, with an inch of water in a pan, at 350 degrees) for about two hours and now have many heaping cups of sunshine colored pumpkin puree. Between my cupboard and my freezer, I now have enough pumpkin for as many pies, doughnuts, breads, and muffins as my heart desires. And since I am pregnant, that is many. At least when I don't have the stomach flu.

Truant

This morning, I am skipping church. My sweet husband and Ms. Bee are dutifully making their way the four blocks, while I am still in my pajamas, curled up, or given my current condition you might say wedged, into an easy chair.

I went to bed early last night, because I was feeling very pregnant, and slept in (although that is a relative term) until the deliciously ungodly hour of 7:45 am. I am not being sarcastic, that is nearly two hours of extra, delicious, much needed sleep.

When my daugher finally came in to wake me up--and she did it very nicely except she switched her instructions from "Go give Mommy kisses and then turn the lights on," to "Turn the lights on in all their blazing glory and then jump on Mommy and give her affectionate kisses"--it was almost time to leave. Bee put her arms around me and very sweetly said, "I love you Mommy; you're a little bit smelly." I was thus excused.

So now I am eating cinnamon toast with cream cheese and having fruit tea, and contemplating the day ahead. It's cold outside today; autumn has finally arrived. While I may not be sitting on a pew this morning, I most certainly am counting my blessings.

Child's play

So I found myself playing "barfing dollies" this evening. It consisted of Bee having one of her dollies, Maggie, throwing up on herself (imaginary vomit, thank goodness) and then needing to have her clothes changed.

My job was to pretend to wash and iron the soiled clothes. I much prefer to make believe I'm doing the laundry than actually do it, so I was happy to oblige.

I am glad that Bee's experience with getting carsick on herself during our trip in the mountains has provided her with this new creative outlet. I am, however, not hoping for a live repeat performance.

Sunrise

Sometimes, I think that it is impossible to know how wrong things were until they start to go right again. I have had a few days to recover from all the excitement of having guests and traveling around the country. We have gotten back into our family routine.

When I think back to two months ago, which were so fraught with worry, I realize that I have spent much of the summer in a haze. A funk. A depression. A worry. I don't know what is the right word is for it, exactly, but maybe a better way to put it is that I have been focused completely inward, which is not, on the whole, a very healthy way to be.

Something happened on Friday. The veil lifted. I began to feel, for the first time in a long time, much more like myself. Or at least someone a bit happier than before. Maybe it is the excitement of potentially buying a house. Or just that fall has come. Or that I will be headed home soon. Or that with every passing week, my little kicker is getting bigger. Whatever it is/it was/will be, I think I'll just enjoy right now for a little while.

I love Saturday

Waking up and not having to go to work is always such a pleasure. Not that I was pleased when Bee started hollering that it was "morning time" at 5:20 am. We pulled out her book basket and sent her to her room to read by herself for a while. This worked splendidly until about 6 am when she came roaring back into our bedrooms, ready to start the day.

And why not? I have never been a morning person, but always manage to feel very accomplished whenever I get up early on the weekends and get things done. While Bee was busy playing "grocery store," We baked some fresh cinnamon rolls. We made them from scratch about a month ago, but it made so many that we froze half of them unbaked. All we had to do was let them defrost in the fridge overnight, and then pop them in the oven.

I took Max for a walk, was followed by a pair of very disreputable young men until they realized that I knew that they were following me. I made a beeline for the American Ambassador's residence and the guards that stand post out front. They declined to follow. It is a real shame that my neighborhood, which is very nice for Bucharest, is becoming less safe.

While I was out, my dear husband scrubbed Her Royal Highness's car seat for any last traces of last weekend's unfortunate carsickness adventure. After I returned, he took the car to be washed and vacuumed and got his hair cut. I did a couple loads of laundry and spent a lot of time playing "doctor" with Bee, and had all my toes bandaged. Fortunately, my role as a patient meant that I just had to lie on the couch and by then, I was tired.

Later on we went to the farmer's market and then to the mall and drank Starbucks and then I had the delight of 15 minutes of solo uninterrupted window shopping while Bee and her father sat by the fountain in the atrium. I will admit, I was fingering all those tiny newborn clothes.

Back at home, we had lunch and fought over every slice of the leftover pizza from last night's dinner. Then I fought with Bee about taking her nap, but guess what? I won. She is asleep. My husband is asleep. And right now, I have nothing to do but contemplate the rest of my busy day: make stock for soup, make soup, make bread, go to a party tonight. I love it. I love Saturday.

Romanian countryside