Fastest delivery service this part o' Texas

As of yesterday evening, Jacob and I have a little boy.  His name is Sebastian John Conrad Reilly, and we are utterly in love.

And as of last night, I don't think I've ever experienced anything so intense, so fast, and so much of a whirlwind as was Sebastian's entrance into the world.

We checked in to the hospital at 7:48pm and our little man was born at ... 8:01pm.  If you do the math, that comes out to a whopping 13 minutes.  More details later, but right now I'm going to go back to my dark haired boys. 

Thank you, everyone, for your prayers.  We are blessed!

Signless and striving for sanity.

I got a phone call from our midwife this morning: "I was just calling to see if you were still pregnant."

... silence ...

... crickets chirping ...

No, really, in all honesty, I love this woman and I appreciated her sense of humor (and her calling to check up on us), and talking with her made me feel much better about having seen yet another labor-less weekend.

Jacob and I really do feel like we've got the best of both worlds (a certified nurse midwife at a hospital known for its top notch labor and delivery care for both medicated and unmedicated births); however, my biggest fear is that I won't go into labor until this weekend when our midwife will be -- dun dun dun -- out of town.

Eeeeeeeeeeeeekkk!!!

I think she's rather's perplexed impressed that I'm still pregnant.  Her predictions were that I would have had this kid two weekends ago, and that "you definitely wouldn't go past your due date."

Last week I bragged about not having a 41 week appointment scheduled; however, now I will most likely have to eat my words because we've got a Wednesday morning appointment scheduled along with a sonogram (to make sure baby is doing fine, which from his kicks and squirms I think is an affirmative).

The waiting has been difficult, especially when I know my body is apparently "ready to go any second," but I will be honest that I really don't want anymore encouragement.  Does that sound bad?

I have so many wonderful and well-meaning friends (many of whom are reading this so y'all better not misunderstand me), and I do not mean to sound uncharitable.  I just hear the same suggestions from everyone -- including the grocery store cashier.  I would rather not be told one more time to go walking, to go up and down the stairs, to do squats, and especially don't tell me anymore what worked to make your baby come, because, quite frankly, at this point I've done them all, am doing them all, and mine is still snug as a bug ...

That being said, I have to strive for peace and acceptance (and ppprrrrrrraaaaaaaayyyyy that he does not come over the weekend because I really, really, really want our midwife to be there).

(By the way do you know what "+1 station" looks like??  This baffles me.  This kid's head is poking past the end of my spine!  And from the feels of today versus five days ago, I think he's probably +1 and then some ... And get this -- no waddling.  Victory!)


So all that being said, what have I been up to other than eating us out of house and home and staying obsessively on top of keeping the apartment picked up in "ever-baby-preparedness-mode"?


Well, I finished one of the many projects I had envisioned completing (albeit, I had envisioned completing this months ago).  I never succeeded with the Peter Pan Collar I wanted, but I did make this alternative.  I'm just not quite sure if it's borderline clown-collar ...

I altered a man's black undershirt and added some ruffly, collar thing.  It's prego-friendly because it's long enough to cover all bumpage.  All I did was take in the arms and bust, shorten the sleeves, cut out the neck, and sew on the fringe.  I'm slowly learning how to handle a sewing machine, so I'm taking baby steps.

40 weeks, 5 days, and still pregnant.

Jacob has been so incredibly patient with me and my crazed fits of cabin fever.  At first I was scared to really leave the apartment because the sound of "bulging bag of waters" and visions of my water breaking in public terrified me.  Furthermore, I was and still am in a weird funk of a mood where I don't want to see or talk to people but can't stay by myself.

That being said, on Saturday I decided I absolutely had to get out of the house; so I opted to run errands and go to our awesome, snazzy mall to make returns, possibly use up some gift cards, and get some more walking in.  Jacob obliged me in all of the above.

The only condition was that the car had to be completely packed for the hospital and that I was to ride around on a plastic-bag-and-towel covered seat.

A non-perk of Saturday was how much my feet and hips ached by the end of our mall-walking tour.

However, a perk of the day was Jacob buying me this (it's embarrassing the wonders that retail therapy does for me):

I have one perfume ("Lost" by Crabtree & Evelyn) that I really love which was given to me by my friend Mary Helen (hi, MH!) for helping her with her wedding; however, it's almost all gone and I've been wanting to find a good, new scent.  We lucked out with this one at Anthropologie which happened to be on sale (can't find it listed online to link it).  Its name, Bouquet Blanc, describes it well, for it is a light, white, florally fragrance with hints of citrus.  So -- win win!

Sunday's attempt to escape the no-sign-of-baby-induced-cabin-fever-craze was to go see a movie.

We decided to see Renoir, which was lovely to watch.  However, my very pregnant self did not appreciate seeing as much of Renoir's "last muse"a la nude throughout the film.  Other than saying it was like watching a Renoir painting in motion, Jacob's only comment on the film was, "It could have done with far less nudity and still gotten the point across."

Agreed.

But all in all, it was a French film (ha!) and I love listening to the language that I long to speak (but probably never will), and the cinematography and scenery along the French riviera was absolutely breathtaking, and it was, just as Jacob said, "a Renoir in motion."

So aaaaaaaaaall that being said -- life is good despite the waiting, and every day that goes by means we are just one day closer to meeting the little man.

(And if you got to the end of this post then you deserve a sticker.)

Linkin' with Mary.

Sisterly encouragement and brother-in-law love...

I sent a group text to my parents and siblings yesterday with the report from the appointment.  It read like so:

"Update from appointment.  90% effaced and 5 cm. dilated.  Bulging bag of waters ... 

And he is at +1 station ... she wouldn't let us schedule an appointment for next week ... woohoo!!!"

And the response from my two sisters was as follows.


L's responses read (one right after the other): "That is so great!!!  You'll probably have a really quick labor ... Starting any minute now!!! "
Then: "Maybe you'll be on of those women who don't feel labor pains.  The baby will just slide out."
Then: "In which case I'll hand off the grandchild production baton off to you entirely."
Then "Kidding/possibly not kidding."


And E's response: "'What the f*** is a bulging bag of waters?' - your brother in law."


Both responses kept me laughing all day ... and I certainly need to keep laughing today.

Husband approved: Steak and gouda polenta

I grew up with Sundays consisting of morning mass followed by a Dad-cooked brunch of eggs, bacon or sausage, toast, and grits.  In fact, if my memory serves me correctly, every time we went anywhere for breakfast Dad would opt for two eggs scrambled, sausage, dry wheat toast, and grits (Dad, you can correct me if I'm wrong on that).

I grew up in the South so grits were a staple. You find them everywhere, and not just for breakfast.  There's the famous grits-on-crack, affectionately known back home as Grits a Ya Ya made famous by one of the popular local restaurants (lookie here).

And of course there is my sister's blog title (Dixie Grit), which goes to show you just how much a part grits are of Southern life.

Several yankee folks I've met from them cold, northern regions of the country (i.e., north of the Mason Dixie line) just don't have an appreciation for grits, but I've realized that it's because they haven't really experienced the full potential of grits.

Grits cooked in water with salt does very little for just about everybody.  However, when you doctor those bad boys up with butter, cheese, salt, and pepper among other things (in fact, look here at the recipe for Grits a Ya  Ya) then you're in for a big surprise.

So I grew up with grits.  However, I never ate polenta until I went to college and lived with several awesome ladies, one of whom hailed from New Mexico (Hi, dear roomie, Elizabeth!).  I began noticing this grit-like concoction they were calling polenta.  Polenta and grits are very, very similar; however, I believe the major difference is this -- grits are from ground hominy and polenta is from ground corn.  Simple enough.

I liked what I encountered of polenta, but I never experimented much with it.  Then one of my awesome coworkers last year (Hi, Kaelly!) was such a fan of it that she gave me a bag of polenta meal.  I had made one dish with it which she recommended and which was quite good, but then I kind of forgot about it.  However, I rediscovered it the other night and I think we might be seeing more of it on our table after that dinner.

Poor lighting.  What can you do?

Jacob was hesitant intrigued at first that I was going to make "grits" as a side for his steak.

"No, darling, it's polenta."

(However, noting the title of this post I can confidently tell you that he gave his full approval for the final results.)  So the husband grilled some fantastic steak, and I addressed the polenta question.  Here's what happened.

Polenta

Cook 1 cup polenta in 3 cups chicken broth

Add lots of black pepper (I love pepper.  I do.  I do.)

Add about 3 TBS of butter

And lots of Gouda cheese (Approximately? Oh, 1 to 1.5 cups?)

Then sauté in butter the following veggies:

Sliced mushrooms, 1/2 green pepper sliced, 1/2 onion sliced, and 3 garlic cloves diced.

All we did was top the polenta with the veggies, and Jacob poured the steak au jus over the assembled product and there you have it.  Delicious (and super simple). 

Five favorites things ... about my due date

So I'm taking advantage of Hallie's "Five Favorites" linkup to stay positive today.  Why do I need positivity?  Because today is my due date.  Yes -- stay positive when there's no baby yet making his appearance.  (Thus, as you can deduce, this is going to be primarily a pregnancy post.)

- Favorite thing #1 -

We've made it this far!  Today marks 40 weeks, and I have to honestly say that these nine months have flow by pretty darn quickly.  So even though I am still pregnant and am ever-so antsy to meet our little boy, I have to be thankful that we've made it to this point with a healthy pregnancy and (as much as we can tell) a healthy baby.  Let's just hope my luck doesn't run out for the labor and delivery part ...

Had Jacob snap a picture as we headed out the door for the 40 week check.

- Favorite thing #2 -

By far the highlight of the day was at our appointment and hearing our progress.  (Is this TMI to post online???  Don't tell me yes because it's really has been the high point.)  I'm at 5 cm, 90% effaced, and the little guy is at station +1.  Exciting????  Yesssssss!

Waiting at the appointment.

- Favorite thing #3 -

Jacob and I have turned the weekly Wednesday appointments into date days, which have been pretty great.  Last week we hit up a gourmet cheese shop for lunch (yummy), but today since we didn't have as much time we stopped in to a grocery/deli for lunch (which was delicious).

- Favorite thing #4 -

Got to visit with Lauren for an hour, and this is always a pick-me-up. (Oh, you haven't read her blog yet?  Then you should.  She blogged before I knew it was cool.)  I can't say enough how glad I am that she and her family have settled back in Texas.  I feel too lucky to have had her close by both in Florida and now in Texas.

- Favorite thing #5 -

And finally, how could this not be a favorite??  My lovely friend Kate of The Grove Street Press posted this picture today and I of course lusted after it fell in love with it and told her as much.  Then, what would you know -- I received the following text from her: "Look more closely at the initials on the blue anchor stationary..."

Yes, ladies and gentlemen, be jealous.  That's my stationary.  Just sayin'.

Want some of their goods??  Stop by their Etsy store.

Husband approved: Bacon wrapped sausage

We've been trying to cut out bread and pasta recently.  We're not doing anything hard core enough to be remotely similar to the Paleo diet, but we did decide we wanted to up our veggie and meat intake.

But what to make when you're not inspired?  Something with bacon of course.

Wrap some bratwursts with bacon and fry 'em up.

When they're done, leave that yummy bacon grease in the pan and toss in some diced onion and sliced mushrooms.  Sauté.  Then add the leftover plain rice from last night's dinner and add the remaining bit of feta cheese you've been wondering what to do with and let it all heat up.

Grab the romain leaves and top them with the rice and sausages and I promise you that your husband will be quite pleased ... at least Jacob was (he insisted on taking a picture of his plate which is what you see here).

Bling! Target so happened

Missed my Target run Saturday night, which meant Sunday afternoon it definitely happened.

No clothes were purchased (nursing bras do not count), but I did decide I wanted a certain pair of wedges even more than I did during an earlier trip, but I couldn't quite decide if I could manage the height with the obnoxious elastic tie between my ankles or while balancing this 9 month belly.

So that being said, I passed on the wedges (for now), meandered through the maternity section in a most lackadaisical manner, wandered to the makeup and nail polish section (chuckled to myself as I read the nail polish names), picked up some more washcloths, then proceeded to navigate my way to what I deemed was the shortest check out lane.  Until ...

I suddenly felt myself drawn toward the jewelry.  I haven't been too inspired to buy jewelry lately (i.e., the past several years), especially when at Target; however, something drew me toward the sparkling, shiny bling!.  I suddenly found myself envisioning Pinterest inspired chambray and bling! and realized that I needed it.

Okay, I knew I didn't need it but I sure as heck wanted it and, boy, got it I did.  I knew Jacob would roll his eyes at at least one of the following purchases, but I didn't care.  A little bling! in his line of sight wouldn't hurt (or blind) him.

I'll let you guess which of the above he was not crazy about, however I must note that I married a very patient man because he only let on to his opinion by a comment along the lines of the following: "Oh, I really like that necklace and the earrings, and, um, you're right -- that other necklace really is bling!."

I knew it.

Creme Brûlée

Barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen.

Don't judge my toe polish.

But you know what?  I'm feeling sassy despite the around-the-corner-terror-of-unknown-labor, the neglected grad paper, the laundry, and the dishes because I made ... Creme Brûlée.

Okay.  Forgive me.  Here it goes.  Creme Brûlée Julia Child style:

Your ingredients:

I did not line the mold with caramel (this is optional, anyway), and I didn't have vanilla bean so extract it is.

Whip out your ramekins, torch, and a baking dish...

Mix together 1/2 cup sugar, 3 whole eggs, and 3 additional egg yolks (just add the leftover egg whites to your scrambled eggs the next morning).

Put the 2 1/2 cups of milk on the stove and bring it to just below simmering.

Now in a slow, steady stream add the milk to the egg and sugar mixture.

(For documentation's sake I did what you see below; however, I'm sure you can rightly guess that the milk didn't pour well directly out of the sauce pan so I would suggest using a ladle or measuring cup ... or something).

Add the 1 teaspoon of vanilla into the mix then strain your mixture to remove the foam that will have developed.

Divide the de-foamed mixture among your ramekins and place them in a baking dish.  Pour boiling water into the dish until it reaches about half way up the sides of the ramekins.

*Note: I divided the mixture among eight ramekins however the amount is probably better for six of the standard ramekins you see below.

Place in a preheated 350 degree oven but then reduce the heat to 325 and let bake for about 35 minutes.  You want the contents of the ramekins to still have some jiggle when they come out, so don't over-bake.

Place them in the refrigerator until cooled ...

Then comes the fun part.  Take those chilled ramekins and sprinkle the top with a layer of sugar.  Like so:

Now take your *kitchen blow torch and have at it.  The sugar will begin to bubble and turn a lovely, toasty brown.

*If you don't have an awesome kitchen blow torch, don't despair.  Put the sugar dusted ramekins under the broiler (on HI).  The key here is to get the sugar melted before you heat the rest of the filling all the way through.  What is so delicious about Creme Brûlée is the chilled smoothness of the milk and egg filling with the sweet crunchy top.

When the sugar has melted it will cool and harden very quickly; with your spoon you should be able to give the top a good thwack and get a lovely crack in the sugary top.

Sweet and crunchy on top but smooth, cool, and rich underneath.  Perfection.

Nail Polish Names & Husband Nesting

So.

No sign of baby.

However, I did finish and send off my last paper for the graduate class I've been neglecting taking this semester. (I wrote all the semester's required papers during these past two and a half weeks.  Thank heavens for laid back professors.)

No work.  No grad class.  No baby (yet).  This must mean ...

... a Target run?

"Babes, do you need any help or can I go to Target?"

"Go ahead.  I'm fine.  Run to Target."

"Eh. Actually, there's no real point in going because it's not like I'm not going to buy any maternity clothes."

"Why don't you go buy some makeup?  Or read the names of the nail polish."

Silence.

"Read the nail polish names?"

"Yeah, someone gets paid to come up with all those names."

And that's all it took to convince me.  It all sounded so good, even the nail polish name reading, except when I realized it was 9:30 PM and by the time I got there I'd have very little time to browse before I was kicked out by the night crew.

Soooo ... pregnant, no paper to procrastinate on, no lesson planning, but too late for a Target run.  

I know.  I'll watch my husband do his "Daddy nesting."

What is "Daddy nesting" you ask?  

Well, it's when your husband decides he's going to completely empty out his study into the living room ...

So he can rearrange the study to make room for another book shelf ...

Meaning your living room becomes filled with books, books ...

More books ... and of course a few decanters on the bathroom sink.

I'm a little afraid of what the result of my idleness will be in the coming days if little man doesn't make an appearance soon ...