I was planning on posting a few recipes here, but something better is available. I present to you (drumroll, please)… Needs More Butter!

For two years now a small group of our friends has been meeting for dinner once a week. Each household takes a week and provides an entire meal that night. The point of these dinners, besides the obvious point of feeding our hungry bellies, is to build community. It’s easy to get to know one another superficially, but community dinner allows us to see each other in a more normal light. Sometimes you’re tired and a bit crabby from that day’s work. Sometimes you have to eat and run. Sometimes you linger over peach cobber (mmm, Jamie, that was good!) and chat the evening away. It’s all part of the deal. We’ve long intended to collate our recipes… So here it is, our recipe blog. Because doesn’t everything taste better with more butter?

Because it’s not fair for one little ducky to be all alone in Blogland.

**Ducks courtesy the generous hostesses of Karen Choi’s baby shower, held last Sunday.

With cheeks like this, who can resist snapping a few photos? I love having the O’Donnells in the neighborhood and savor our time with them before they leave for Japan in ’08.

Liv is now taking ballet from Miss Joie! How cool is that?! Those of you who know me well might guess that I’d struggle with introducing Livia to organized activities at a young age. But everything lined up just right for this dance class with our beloved friend as the teacher. It was more of a how-could-we-not type of situation.

And besides, Livia in her little dancing outfit just about knocks me over with its cuteness.

Call me crazy, but what mother-to-be would be pleased with this Wilton cake topper?

“Feeling big with that baby belly? Big enough to break a scale? HA HA HA! Hilarious!”

Even worse, I noticed the topper is out of stock. As in, people really buy it. [groan]

Swallow. Pain. Talk. Pain. Drugs! Ah. Ensure. Swallow. SoBe Vitamin Water. Swallow. Ouch. Pain. Sleep. Mmmm… Swallow. Ouch. Sleep. Mmmm… Livia. Loud. Bouncy. Ear pain. Ouch. Drugs! Ah. Sleep.

Thanks to my sweet NC friends for sending such beautiful flowers. I love you, Charity and Andy (and I’d mean that even if I wasn’t on vicodin!).

With all the gunk that surely was stored up in my tonsils, I felt like I deserved to lose 3 pounds yesterday morning, not just a few ounces. However, the real reward is ditching those tonsils–so all is good.

The outpatient surgical rooms were small but adequate. I know they were doing a number of cateract and tonsil procedures yesterday, which was keeping my nurse jumping. The anesthesiologist, despite receiving a negative pregnancy test from me, opted to avoid using one drug that can cause facial and cranial deformities in fetuses. The trade off? I would be able to recall walking into the operating room and might also feel a bit more anxious without this specific medication. Not a problem… Their OR was much smaller, much less scary-looking and less frigid than the ones at St. Elizabeth’s I visited last fall. The oddest moment came when the anesthesiologist was giving me medication on the surgical table and she told me I might feel burning sensations in, er, the nether regions before falling asleep. It was then that I questioned if they were performing a tonsillectomy or not. (!?!) Fortunately, I awoke in the recovery area and all that was missing was my tonsils.

Drugs are strange things. In recovery I remember feeling like my head and body were huge, like they were filling up the room. I’m not an altered-state kind of girl… I like the feeling of a normal-sized cranium, thank you very much.

Yesterday Jeremy and I were home before lunchtime, and I was even able to eat a few Ritz and the insides of a Fairbury hot dog while my throat was all numbed up. Today, though, is another matter entirely. My upper throat is killing me and I feel like I’m speaking in a strange Marlon Brando dialect. Swallowing, while of utmost importance for hydration, is so not my friend.

What I’m wondering is, how long can an extrovert stand being silent? : )

**Note: Bloggers on narcotics are not responsible for misspelled words, poorly constructed syntax, or inappropriate admissions.

Sorry, guys. This blog is getting so lam-o. And there’s nothing I really feel like doing about it right now.

I’m facing down a tonsillectomy this week and I am very ready to get it over with. Enough thinking about a painful recovery (as everyone seems to be telling me, adults deal with tonsillectomies much worse than children) and enough taking antibiotics to attempt to clear out the strep infections. Out, out damn tonsils! (Thanks, Shakespeare, for that line. Sorry to misquote you–it’s a cultural thing.)

To make an attempt toward mildly-interesting rather than all-out-boring, I leave you with a few questions…

Three year olds: Annoying or charming?
Tea: Iced or hot?
Pixar: Monsters, Inc or The Incredibles?
Summer: Take it or leave it?
The USA: East Coast or West Coast?
Sports: Social event or serious fan?
Email: Gmail or Yahoo?
Tonsils: In or out?
Latenight Blogging: Procrastination or honest work?

There are some right and wrong answers here, people. (Of course MY three year old is charming… and brilliant… and radiantly beautiful… and only a teensy bit on the annoying side.) Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

I still feel like I should be able to look out my back door and see a rainbow over Zion.

There was an interesting article in Saturday’s Journal Star about an academic program in homemaking at Southern Baptist Seminary. It definitely caught my eye as academics and homemaking are rarely referred to in the same sentence.

I don’t know that a seminary is the place to have this type of program—it definitely strikes me as odd. But here’s what I thought after reading the entire article: SIGN ME UP.

Huh?

Coursework will include seven hours of nutrition and meal preparation, seven hours of textile design and “clothing construction,” three hours of general homemaking, three hours on “the value of a child” and three hours on the “biblical model for the home and family… Women also study children’s spiritual, physical and emotional development.

This is what I do! (Well, most of the time.) These classes are the type of help I need! Would I like to learn how to make more nutritious choices for my family? Yup. Do I know anything about clothing construction? Nope, refused Home Ec as a junior higher and denied my mom any opportunity for instruction. But would I like to learn now? Yup again. Do I need advice about my child’s spiritual, physical and emotional development? Yes. (Any person who thinks s/he’s above needing wisdom is fooling herself/himself.)

Like I said, I’m not certain a seminary is THE correct place to hold classes on homemaking, but I would love it if a college around here offered a few classes on this thing. What I find interesting about an actual concentration in homemaking is that it legitimizes the practice. All these folks, including the commenting anons on the LJS, are up in arms over the idea of women being forced into particular roles. The truth is that I chose this role; I chose to stay home rather than work full time. And while I would expect to be supported if I chose to pursue a degree in theology or counseling, why wouldn’t I want the same thing if I actively pursued homemaking?

Oh, there are so many facets to this topic. I’m going to stop at this point, but I’d love the discussion to continue in the comments or perhaps in future posts.