Boxed brownies, and tantrums

I've gone and done it: made my first boxed-mix of something since Katie was born. This is a big, big deal because Eric and I pride ourselves on making everything from scratch: spaghetti sauce, sauces of all sorts, cakes, cookies, icing, you name it. If we buy pre-made cookies, it's to eat the dough, not the cookie. But last night, on a Target run, I went down the spice aisle, and there were those Girardelli brownies right next to the icing. Just like that, I said goodbye to Ina Garten's 100-step outrageous, homemade brownies, and sold my soul to the convenience of boxed mixes.

I knew this would happen. It was only a matter of time. During my last trimester, I was home with little school work to do- it was the only time I was able to fully concentrate on being pregnant and getting ready for Katie- I was a cooking fool. There was a constant supply of desserts on hand and I assure you, they were NOT pre-fab. Despite my seriously swollen ankles, I spent hours making the deep dish apple pies (the recipe from Thanksgiving), oatmeal chocolate chip cookies, chocolate cakes, lime curd tarts, all from scratch. Of course, this, and my escalating blood pressure, may have had something to do with the thirty pounds I gained in the last twelve weeks of my pregnancy, but we ate very well last summer. I remember the day I started having contractions, I had made two loaves of cinnamon swirl bread, and the night before we went to the hospital (labor lasted over 50 hours), I made some sort of chicken and fontina dish I had seen on the food network. Oh, it was so good.

But, on our countertop, sits on a pan of brownies with canned frosting...did I mention I somehow miraculously fit into my pre-pregnancy pants? Just all of a sudden, I can wear my old jeans. Despite the brownies.

And now, to the tantrums. Previously, I stated Katie's been "asserting" herself. Last night, it turned into tantrums. She DOES NOT want to be held. She DOES NOT want to be in her play pen, and when she's tired of it, she DOES NOT want to be in high chair any more. We'll see how it goes at day care this week. I'll ask her teachers if she does the same thing with them, although the babies are only cooped up if they're sleeping in their cribs, so I imagine she'll be just fine.

What's brewing, though, is a meeting of the wills. Katie got her stubborn-genes from both sides, and she's up against the two of us- we'll see how long this lasts. This morning, Eric was cooking breakfast, I was trying to work, and she did NOT want to be in her high chair or her play pen. We just let her stew...

But! That brings me to: I think she's saying Mama...and we may have even heard Papa, too!!!!