Cookies and Steak

Cookies so kick steak's arse today. And I don't dole those words out lightly. Food is pretty tricky today. I need it, but it is doing everything in its power to keep me away. The smell of anything savory creates a little vomity backup in the throat, so I had to retaliate with a batch of Tollhouse cookies. Screw you, digestion system - take that. Erpy will thwart the Stomach, oh yes. And the Lima Bean will get chocolate chips to boot. Speaking of food: I had the pleasure recently of reading a Mimi Smartypants diatribe on the freakishness of Parents magazine. I was sucked into the idea I ought to get some periodical dedicated to helping me get through my first year as a new mom. Parents just happened to be the magazine some dude was selling door to door as part of some list for a charity back in October 2003, which happened to be the time I was seven months pregnant and full of good napping and bright ideas. You ever see this mag? It's for anyone who's got an inferiority complex for either working and leaving your kid behind in the care of someone else, or for those who stay at home and feel they have to explain themselves for being a full-time mother in an age they believe is meant for women to express themselves intelllectually, emotionally and sexually in the workplace (or really, just outside the home). So really, Parents covers the bases nicely for anyone who's feeling guilty for their choice. I myself am too tired and happy to feel guilty for anything other than not writing nearly enough. So I am more than a little unsettled by all the conflicting advice offered in Parents - articles telling both types of moms to stop worrying and take it easy and relax, next to articles telling moms to create ridiculously intricate activities and meals and costumes and rituals with their kids - are you really going to make fruit kabobs that look like insects? Make little chocolate bats at Halloween? I am giving out bagged candy with a clear conscious; that's all I got to say about that. Anyway, the cookies await. And really, the only reason I'm making them is because it seems easier than putting on proper clothes and dragging butt to the store for the bagged kind. I don't have to put little bat smiley faces on my baked goods, so that's a plus.