It's a Banana Bread kind of day.

I mean, if I was being honest with myself-most days in my household are Banana Bread kind of days. Why not? It's positively scrumptious, and it's suuuper easy to make.

Plus if you have a Husband like mine,who considers a Banana expired and uneatable once it's past it's stage of shamrock green-then you really have no choice but to either 1.) Consume an absurd amount of Bananas all by yourself, or 2.) Make this delicious snack. I vote #2.

So we have our gross Bananas. (Next to my precious vintage cookie jar which I proudly found at a thrift store)

And our suuuper easy recipe

You need 4 tablespoons of butter that have been melted and cooled, so I always start with that. Sometimes if I forget to do it first, I just stick it in the fridge for a few minutes.

Now, time to get your 3 large bananas mashed. I use my handy-dandy KitchenAid with the paddle attachment, but if you don't have one of those I recommend putting your handy-dandy children/siblings/spouse to work with a fork or a potato masher. I have fond memories of bonding with my little brother by handing him a bowl containing bananas and a large utensil and making him useful while he watched TV and I baked. (the bonding part came later when he tasted my banana bread and was overwhelmed with brotherly affection for me)

In the meantime, put 1 and 1/2 cups flour, and a teaspoon each of salt and baking soda in bowl. Easy Peasy.

Now you need a cup of sugar.

And then you realize you don't actually have enough sugar left for the recipe.

Crap.

Once you're done scouring your cupboards while muttering how retarded you are for running out of one of the most basic of kitchen ingredients...

...Improvise. Forgive yourself. Make a note on your grocery list. And proceed.

Mix your Sugar(s) with your mashed bananas. Then add the melted,cooled butter and one egg and mix again.

Then mix in your dry ingredients just until its all moistened and fluffy.

Mmm. I'm one of those weirdos that finds most batters and doughs to be delicious. Whats a little Salmonella in the grand scheme of things?

Ok,stop licking the sides of the bowl and pour batter into greased loaf pan and bake at 325 degrees for 55-60 minutes.

While your home is being invaded by the heavenly aroma that accompanies this baking project, there is plenty that you can get done. If you're like me..

..You need to clean your flippin kitchen. And make a mental note to get this done prior to starting such an endeavor.

And then maybe check on any children you have laying around.

Especially if they are grunting like dinosaurs, trying with everything in them to pass that last bit of gas. You go Girl.

(If you're wondering about the undershirt that is being used in addition to the bassinet sheet, I had the idea that maybe if she smelled her parents in her bassinet, she would feel more inclined to sleep in there at night, instead of on my chest. Unfortunately, it doesn't have a good success rate so far. *yawn*)

And now the banana bread is finished and looking absolutely gorgeous! (To make sure it's actually finished-stick toothpick in and see if it comes out goop-free)

Now cut yourself a piece and slather an unhealthy amount of butter on it. Seriously. Don't be doing your thighs any favors. Live a little.

Uhhh...Yum! I'll give 24 hours max before the whole thing magically disappears.

(And you can't even tell I botched to sugars. Sweet! ...Get it? sweet like....ok.)

Babies and Beef

This is my baby.

Her name is Vienna Jane. She's fabulous.

A little over two weeks ago, I spent 24 hours enduring hard back labor, apologizing profusely to nurses I yelled at during contractions, having my downstairs wiped by strangers and close relatives(i.e. mother-in-laws...Sorry you had to see that Julie, you're a champ!) alike, dealing with awkward doctors bearing as much personality as a pencils, and pushing for the last 2 and a half of those hours to get that fabulous head of hair into the world.

Totally worth it, I mean... look at her. And her hair. Enough said.

The Hottie in the background is the one who helped me make this precious,pooping bundle of joy and who got me through the indescribable, spectacular, terrifying miracle of birth.

He's my hero.

We found out that I was pregnant 2 months after we got married. We wanted kids soon anyway so we didn't freak. Hakuna Matata.

It would kinda be a waste of time to try and describe how sick and miserable I was for the first almost 5 months of pregnancy...

...

..for instance I just spent 5 minutes trying to think of a food or beverage that didn't make me puke my brains out during those dreadful days.

I didn't come up with anything. See? Waste of time.

Anywho! Then one day we up and moved from Colorado to Minnesota.

You might be thinking Well, moving is big ordeal that takes time and planning,so Im sure thats not quite how it happened.

You'd be wrong. That's pretty much exactly how it happened.

My husband wanted to move up here. I was game. So he applied for a job, got an interview, we drove up that weekend, he was hired on the spot, a couple hours later we found a place to live, and then we drove home. We packed up all of our crap and were back by the next weekend.

It was fun.

The amazing part of the move was that as soon as we were up here-I miraculously felt better! And from then on-I was in pregnancy heaven. I was the happiest and most emotionally steady since my pre-puberty days. It wasn't until my last couple weeks of pregnancy that I was getting a little nutty from thinking that my days of feeling,looking,and eating like Shamu would never end.

But they eventually did.

And all God's people said- Amen!

So here I am. Which brings me to...

My beef.

Remember how annoying wedding planning was? Remember why?

People. And their projectile, exasperating, and ignorant opinions/comments/condescension towards your life.

Well, I thought weddings were bad. Then I got pregnant. Oh boy.

Not only do people claim to be certain of the exact details of what your future holds...

"Oh don't worry,the DAY you hit your 12th week-you'll feel 100% better! Trust me!" - I still regret not forcing all of the women who said this to me to drive me to the hospital and personally hook me up to an IV at my 17th week.

"Have you had soda crackers? They'll make you feel better- I promise!" - I think after the 1,597,863rd time I had this pearl of wisdom thrust at me, I decided that the best way to handle the next time would be to punch them in the face.

"You're gonna have a boy, I know it! And I'm 99% right every time!"- ...Good job.

..Then there are the ones who always patronize and condescend. No matter how far you're moving forward in life-you're always behind. Always.

"Ya, well try being pregnant when you have 3 other kids!"

Now, I'm not sure if it's just me,but since Iv'e never,to my knowledge, sported a sticky note on my forehead that says"Hello! My name is Brainless Doormat.", I have a feeling I'm not the only one subject to comments like these.

However, while I'm not alone in dealing with this aspect of life in general- I do sometimes feel more annoyed about it than many of it's recipients.

Why? I don't know. Not a quality I particularly care for about myself. Oh well.

Nonetheless, my irritation to the lack of freedom given to me to live my own, unique life with my own ,unique experiences has been the reason I have been hiding under a proverbial rock for some time now.

My Point?

I'm coming out from under my rock.

So Readers who make "Chya, Duh! Welcome to life, Elise!" comments will be referred back to this posting in an attempt to shut them up.

Otherwise, Enjoy! :)