A lot of people are either wondering what’s happened to me or they’re just sick of looking at that baby corn picture. Well, I got knocked up with twins and my foodie blogging career went the way of my girlish figure.
In my first trimester, I had horrible morning sickness and got by pretty much only on saltines. Second trimester was a little bit better: saltines and Kraft mac n’ cheese (I know, I’m appalled too.) By the third trimester, my appetite was back in full force, but I was so hugely pregnant that I couldn’t stand on my feet long enough to fix a bowl of cereal, let alone a respectable cassoulet.
And I’m not even going to talk about all the cooking I didn’t do when they were born.
The babies are nine months old now. They’re gorgeous and sweet and wonderful and amazing and perfect and all the other adjectives that parents usually use. They’re the most delicious little things I’ve ever cooked up (even edging out the bacon for the top spot.)
Between the full-time job and the more-than full-time nippers, my kitchen time is spent pureeing carrots and sweet potatoes or loading baby bottles into the dishwasher. So, the dutch oven sits there, collecting dust and wondering if I’ll ever braise again. Sure, I do the occasional roast chicken and our new grill is a magical wonderland of speedy meal ideas, but take snaps? Write about it? Post? It’s just not in the cards right now.
I’m going to remain on hiatus for a bit. Cooking is definitely more of a passion than scrubbing poop out of footie pajamas, so I’ll be back. There’s still a lot of eating to do.