I’m not big on thinking things through. Organization, for
the most part, is overrated and planning? What is that word? I don’t know
it. I could wear holes in the floor with
how frequently I’m retracing my steps because I’m unable to remember one thing
or another, usually I’ve forgotten to put on pants, and I definitely did not
have a birth plan. My only instruction
was to not let my husband anywhere near the business end of things, unless they
wanted to add his resuscitation to that day’s itinerary. He had no desire to see it and I spent way
too much time braiding my hair and putting on fake eyelashes that morning for
him to be looking at anything but my beautiful face.
This disregard for strategy also plays in a big role in my blog
posts. Obviously I didn’t put much thought into the repercussions in writing
about Rinn’s unmentionables; I suppose it’s a wait-and-see how that will play
out for him later in life. Also, it
wasn’t but moments after I posted “yogurt cake” that I realized I provided the
recipe and only speculations about how I managed to mess it up. That afternoon I used Twitter for something
useful (instead of shameless self-promotion and pestering celebrities about
their haircuts) and contacted the author of
Bringing Up Bébé, Pamela Druckerman, to get some insider tips.
She confirmed my suspicions about the mixing (don’t overdo
it) and that WHOLE MILK YOGURT is crucial. I bought Greek. My bad for thinking yogurt is yogurt. For round two, I couldn’t find a single yogurt
that said “whole milk” so I ended up buying just regular plain yogurt (not
light or low-fat because let’s face it, making diet cakes are an exercise in
futility) and since no one in their right minds eats regular plain yogurt
(because it tastes like old, wet cardboard) I was unable to find it in the 6
oz. single serve containers. So what did
I do, buy the family sized plain yogurt AND two individual Yoplait Red Velvet
Cake yogurts for measuring purposes, which I consumed on the way home because
shopping for the elusive whole milk yogurt left me famished and close to
exhaustion.
Fast forward: the cake turned out wonderfully turning my B-
into a solid A+, combine that with my B for patience (I lost points when I
couldn’t wait and inhaled yogurt treats on my way home), and then throw in a
couple extra credit points for my problem solving skills and I’ve earned myself
a much deserved A.
Cheers! (or as the French would say Santè!)
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