This Saturday will mark my third baby shower this month. I have come into a whole lot of babies - a gaggle of babble, if you will. Folks joke that being surrounded with all these bundles of joy would reawaken my biological clock, but I am here to say that well, that hasn't happened. I love cooing over other people's babies. And returning them to their rightful owners. Those babies get bigger and talk back. I think I've met my quota of sass.
There are five new moms/moms-to-be in my church ladies group. (I pictured Dana Carvey too.) In lieu of a fancy shower or martini night (my vote), we are providing meals for the families after the stork arrives. Which sounds sweet and helpful. I'm all for it, but what am I going to rustle up for these mamas and co?
I poured over some cookbooks this morning and found some recipes designed for this specific purpose, but I can't imagine that my friends are going to appreciate and/or eat a vat of tuna casserole. Besides, I hope to retain my friendship privileges postpartum.
I turned to the mighty internet next. Surely someone has posted a hip, delicious, easy recipe I could replicate over and over. I would be able to make it in my sleep or near sleep state. But the first thing I read was a bunch of directions on how to behave around a new Mom and her offspring. Directions that included a 'babymoon' and me running up all stealthy like and ringing the doorbell after placing my horde of frozen meals on the porch. Directions that told me to wave as I drive away lest I disturb all the motherlove and infect the child with my grimy hands. I gave this 'article' a delicate finger and tried to call my Mom, for she knows all.
She wasn't home.
I guess I will volunteer my services and hope I get inspired very soon. Some of these ladies are very pregnant. Does delivered pizza count?