Without labor, nothing prospers. - Sophocles

Happy Labor Day! Wouldn’t it be fitting if I went into labor on Labor Day?
I have been informed by my mother-in-law that I am not permitted to have the baby on or between September 25 and October 1. I am also not permitted to have the baby on October 8 – it’s the Penguins home opener and everyone is going. Well, everyone except Dan – he said if my due date were earlier and I were in the hospital on the 8th, he’d go but otherwise, he just wouldn’t “be able to relax.” HE wouldn’t be able to relax – ha! Except then my MIL said her mother’s birthday was the 8th, and wouldn’t it be cool…I counter with the fact that my mother died on October 1, so let’s avoid that day….I am assuming from all these directives that it is also preferred that I give birth during regular business hours, Monday through Friday. I suggested that perhaps I could give birth in late September; September 20th or so would be ideal. Both Dan and his mom emphatically said anywhere in the September 20s was too early…I say it’s only two weeks early and at this point, other than foregoing the shore, I could happily give birth RIGHT NOW. So play your numbers and place your bets folks, I aim to please.

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My vacation book list, pretty decided:

Children of God – Mary Doria Russell
The Rule of Four – Ian Caldwell
Green Darkness- Anya Seton
In Harm’s Way: The Sinking of the USS Indianapolis and the Extraordinary Story of its Survivors – Doug Stanton

If I haven’t finished A Civil Action and/or Corelli’s Mandolin, I will lug them along too. Since I have exactly three t-shirts that are huge enough to cover my belly, and only two skirts/pants that fit comfortably, and one (maternity) bathing suit., my other luggage will be minimal, so I can bulk up the books portion.

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Philosophical ponderings must be quite the trend among the preschool set these days. My next-door neighbor’s three-year-old saw a dying mouse while they were on a hike recently. Quinn asked her mother, “Mama? Was it a bad mouse? Did it deserve to die?” According to Lannie, all mice are evil vermin and definitely deserve to be dead, but I am not sure she said that to her daughter.

In the car on the way to the grocery store yesterday, Simon started crying. I asked him what was wrong, and he sobbed, “I don’t KNOW! I just feel really sad!” I talked to him a bit, about how it’s ok to feel sad sometimes for no reason, and you feel better soon, and there’s a lot going on right now in his life that he might not *feel* stressed about but that doesn’t mean it’s not upsetting on some level. What I really wanted to do was clutch him protectively and growl to God/whatever powers that be, to make him HAPPY, and not make him be like his mom, to whom every day is a fight just to exist normally. Other people expend energy actually living; I feel as if I spend my energy just working up to trying to live. I am so exhausted with my fight, and he’s only four, and I don’t want his entire life to be that way. And I feel even worse, even more guilty, since I am clearly the one who passed that gene onto him. I want to make everything fine for him, even though I know I can’t and that is not the way to fix anything.

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My in-laws came for dinner last night. We made homemade pizzas with the red peppers from the farm and some Italian sausage. Pretty darn yummy. I made a coconut custard pie for my FIL, and a Toll House pie (chocolate and walnut) for my neighbors who came over later. And then today for Dan’s family’s Labor Day picnic, I made a blackberry pie with Gina’s crumb topping, and some chocolate cupcakes. This cooler weather really brings out the June Cleaver in me.

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Jess, here’s the coconut custard pie recipe. It’s incredibly easy, and you can eat it for breakfast even, what with all those eggs : )

4 eggs
2 cups milk
1/2 cup Bisquick
1/2 cup sugar
1 tsp vanilla
2 tbsp softened butter
a handful of flaked coconut

Proces in blender till smooth. Pour into a 9" pie pan, preferably one with 2" sides. It will be VERY liquid. Sprinkle top generously with grated/flaked coconut. Bake at 350 degrees for 30-40 minutes. Cool on a rack, and don't cut it till it's cool. Refrigerate any leftovers.

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Something disturbing - there was, at this Labor Day picnic, a priest who was astonishingly good looking. Not just good-looking "for a priest"; simply gorgeous, no matter what. Tall, thin, silvery-grey/dark hair, kind of wolfish teeth with a great smile. And he was flirting with me. He is a colleague of Dan's uncle, and I was talking baby names with Uncle John (who is very funny but not very good-looking). And he introduced this priest who joined right in suggesting all sorts of silly (and otherwise) names, and we just clicked. It was SO ODD. We were laughing about all the same things, and he was charming and suave, and oh my God, he most definitely was flirting with me. I have never been flirted with by a priest before (unless you count Father Tom who, besides being decidedly gay, flirts with *everyone*). And I have NEVER been *attracted* to a priest before. But there I was, laughing and talking and being wildly attracted to this man. Am I going to hell? (Of course, to finish the tale, I wound up saying something really dumb, which I refuse to reveal -it's bad enough I said it the first time - so now I can just cringe at my stupidity rather than at my cupidity.) But I am SOOOOOO going to hell, aren't I?