Brain no worky.
To be fair, my brain is working...there's just some sequencing off somewhere. I've heard of pregnancy brain, but this is ridiculous. For the past eight months, I've forgotten to do plenty of stuff, but not quite like this week. I usually forget an entire task, but this past week I've done surprisingly well remembering to get everything done...with the exception of one tiny (but important) detail.
First it was my three cheese chicken and pasta. I put all the ingredients in my skillet, Wanda (yes...she has a name. She is my favorite skillet of all time, so she deserves a name), turned the burner on two notches past medium and slapped the lid on, just like I always do. A few minutes later I noticed it wasn't bubbling like it should, and it took me another minute to realize it was because I had turned the knob the wrong way. Instead of medium high, I had it set between low and medium.
Possibly the same night (I really don't remember), I had just put a small load of Kellen's stuff in the laundry when I realized I'd forgotten to put in a few new onesies. I ran (read: waddled) back to his room, grabbed them, and ran back to the washer. I opened the lid...and saw enough water in there for a leprechaun to go swimming. I had forgotten to reset the load size, so instead of "small," it was set on "extra large." -.- Not a big deal, but highly annoying.
Fast forward to tonight...when I started frustrating myself to no end. Mom and I ran some errands and ended with a trip to WalMart so I could pick up cookie ingredients. I double-checked the recipe, declared that I had everything I needed, and headed home. Around 7:15, when I decided to start baking, I realized I'd forgotten something: eggs. I read the recipe twice, I've made this type of cookie a hundred times...yet I forgot one of the most important ingredients. *sigh*
Shaun kindly went to Braum's and picked up some eggs for me and I got started baking. I was putting the first batch in the oven when I realized that I set out the salt, but I never put any in the dough. I decided maybe it wasn't important and went ahead with my cookies.
Turns out they taste just fine, but apparently pregnancy has stolen my ability to tell when cookies are done. The first batch literally fall apart on my cookie rack. And when I say "on" my cookie rack, I really mean "through" my cookie rack. Cookies pieces everywhere.
So here I sit, drowning my sorrows in some nice cold milk and eating broken cookie pieces. I'm pretty sure I've had about 1/3 gallon of milk, but at least I'm not drowning my sorrows in what I really want: cookie dough. I think this is why I haven't baked much in the past few months. I can't handle the temptation!
I suppose Shaun was right when he recently told me "I know what a man's job is in pregnancy. The woman eats for two, the man thinks for two. In my case, anyway" At the time I wasn't so amused, but I have to admit he's right.
To be fair, my brain is working...there's just some sequencing off somewhere. I've heard of pregnancy brain, but this is ridiculous. For the past eight months, I've forgotten to do plenty of stuff, but not quite like this week. I usually forget an entire task, but this past week I've done surprisingly well remembering to get everything done...with the exception of one tiny (but important) detail.
First it was my three cheese chicken and pasta. I put all the ingredients in my skillet, Wanda (yes...she has a name. She is my favorite skillet of all time, so she deserves a name), turned the burner on two notches past medium and slapped the lid on, just like I always do. A few minutes later I noticed it wasn't bubbling like it should, and it took me another minute to realize it was because I had turned the knob the wrong way. Instead of medium high, I had it set between low and medium.
Possibly the same night (I really don't remember), I had just put a small load of Kellen's stuff in the laundry when I realized I'd forgotten to put in a few new onesies. I ran (read: waddled) back to his room, grabbed them, and ran back to the washer. I opened the lid...and saw enough water in there for a leprechaun to go swimming. I had forgotten to reset the load size, so instead of "small," it was set on "extra large." -.- Not a big deal, but highly annoying.
Fast forward to tonight...when I started frustrating myself to no end. Mom and I ran some errands and ended with a trip to WalMart so I could pick up cookie ingredients. I double-checked the recipe, declared that I had everything I needed, and headed home. Around 7:15, when I decided to start baking, I realized I'd forgotten something: eggs. I read the recipe twice, I've made this type of cookie a hundred times...yet I forgot one of the most important ingredients. *sigh*
Shaun kindly went to Braum's and picked up some eggs for me and I got started baking. I was putting the first batch in the oven when I realized that I set out the salt, but I never put any in the dough. I decided maybe it wasn't important and went ahead with my cookies.
Turns out they taste just fine, but apparently pregnancy has stolen my ability to tell when cookies are done. The first batch literally fall apart on my cookie rack. And when I say "on" my cookie rack, I really mean "through" my cookie rack. Cookies pieces everywhere.
So here I sit, drowning my sorrows in some nice cold milk and eating broken cookie pieces. I'm pretty sure I've had about 1/3 gallon of milk, but at least I'm not drowning my sorrows in what I really want: cookie dough. I think this is why I haven't baked much in the past few months. I can't handle the temptation!
I suppose Shaun was right when he recently told me "I know what a man's job is in pregnancy. The woman eats for two, the man thinks for two. In my case, anyway" At the time I wasn't so amused, but I have to admit he's right.
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