Baked Goods

I am not the world's greatest baker. Oh, that doesn't stop me from trying, though: flat cookies, loaves of soggy-bottomed banana bread, I've done it. Can you tell I never took home-ec? I don't know why I have such a hard time with baking, but it's probably for the best that I can't turn out gourmet treats, for I have an enormous sweet tooth and zero self-control (overall dangerous qualities for a type 1 diabetic).

You may find it fitting that I nicknamed my daughters after baked goods, what with my love for sweets and my inability to properly create them. Both girls were born premature, after all. Somehow, my body's internal timer is set to 33 weeks' gestation. Ding! Baby's done! Time to take her out! Oh wait, this one's not quite ready yet... let's put her under the warming lights and see if she'll cook a bit more. Maybe she'll set up better after some time on the cooling rack. Is that a cute euphemism for the NICU? It sure makes me feel better about the time spent there. Oh, but if only it had been my own kitchen that held these two little treats! No driving back and forth to the hospital many miles away. No waiting to fully enjoy them. But then I wouldn't have had the help and experience of the more seasoned chefs, or doctors and nurses. Yes, the professional kitchen is where the Cupcake and the Cookie needed to be at the time. To be baked to perfection. Out of my hands.

While I am done trying to bake children in *this* oven, maybe one day I will come up with a perfect tray of moist and fluffy chocolate chip cookies. My family can only hope for as much.