Lately, about 3:30 pm I’ve been running out of steam. It’s the bewitching hour: after nap time (when Milo is full of energy and I’ve usually forgone napping to work on a project:), right in between lunch and dinner when I’m getting a little hungry, about when I need to hit the road and battle some traffic to pick Dave up from school, just when the sun is starting to set and the cold settles back in for the night…
In a former, non-pregnant state, I hit that wall and then gather up my skirts so they don’t blow away in my second wind! However, I think my little hijacker is using my second wind to grow big and strong (he/she’s about the size of a mango this week!)
Anyway, the best thing in the world when one loses energy and can find no more is waffles. Especially those crunchy, whole-grain variety whipped up by the husband while the child breaks eggs on the kitchen tile (“uh oh, mama…”) so one can sit quite still at the dining room table, leafing through egg custard recipes in Mark Bittman’s How to Cook Everything and tune out, just for a second, the wonderful craziness that is wife and motherhood.
A little butter and a little syrup in each square has the effect of an hour soak in a hot bath, or a $6.00 hot cocoa from Dean & Deluca, or a trip to Costa Rica, or a single night’s sleep without waking up to use the bathroom…;)
And, last night, said buttery, sugary waffles got me thinking about my very favorite wedding gifts. One of which, being the waffle iron. I think I’m going to send four-year-later thank you’s to my top gift givers. Just as a “Hey, I know we said we liked it then (when we hadn’t even opened the box yet!), but it’s withstood the test of time, and we really do like it!” I’ll be sending them to:
Kelly, for the fantastic waffle iron
Alyssa and Traci, for the tool set that I use almost every day
Rick, for the four settings of flat ware that still comprise more than half our total settings!
Erica, for the oil and vinegar caddy that I adore, and
Amy, for Mark Bittman’s How to Cook Everything
So, Dave’s waffles gave me peace and gratitude. What more could you ask from an evening meal? Nothing, I’d say.
