I must not make muffins. I must not make muffins. NO MUFFINS, TIFFANY.
I’m meeting my stroller posse in about an hour for our 8:30 stroll, and I really, really, really want to mix up a batch of muffins. Maybe chocolate chip. Or apple cinnamon. Or, I know, blueberry using berries from the bushes in our backyard. They’d be delicious.
But I won’t.
Hi, my name is Tiffany, and I’m a stress-baker. * Give me some anxiety and I will feed you food made from sugar, love and angst. But mostly sugar.
In the past month, while waiting to announce, waiting on CP notes on my WIP, and now waiting on my edit letter I have made: 3 coffee cakes, 1 peanut butter pie, 1 angel food cake, 2 batches of cinnamon buns, and 2 types of cookies. ** Then I force fed everyone around me.***
Thank goodness for baby food. Steaming, pureeing, and packing up pint-sized portions of fruits and veggies is almost as good as mixing up a batch of snickerdoodles. I spend so much time cutting and peeling and planning baby meals that I should probably add it as a hobby on Facebook. And, I’m not going to lie, I get an absurd amount of satisfaction out of opening up my fridge and freezer and admiring all the neat rows of colorful glass containers. If the zombie apocalypse happens tomorrow, the boys will still have an ample supply of organic peaches, carrots, zucchini, acorn squash, sweet potato, avocado, pears, apples, banana, spinach, beans and peas.****
Which will come in handy when I begin revisions and naptime becomes Sacred Writing Time instead of What Shall We Cook Today? Time.
Until then I will (try to) resist the urge to make play with sugar and butter. I will hang up my apron, stopper my vanilla and have St. Matt hide my cookie sheets.
NO MUFFINS, TIFFANY.
What do YOU do when you’re waiting? No, seriously, leave me a comment and tell you what you do – I could use some alternatives since we’ve run out of freezer space for baby food.
*St. Matt suggests I amend this to impatient-baker, but I say NO. Impatient-baker doesn’t roll off the tongue nearly so well. Some people were just not designed to wait. If God decided to include a half-dose of patience when he created me, who am I to question that?
**And for some unknown reason, my baby weight hasn’t just melted right off
***I haven’t heard any complaints.
**** Please note that in my version of the apocalypse, we still have electricity. Also note that I am not asking for the apocalypse, I’d prefer that waits until AFTER I get to see SEND ME A SIGN in bookstores.