My plate is spilling over with projects and I am manic. I feel like the Weeble Wobble toys of my 80's childhood. "Weeble-ing and Wobble-ing" in exhaustion--not drink--only I am about to fall down. If you ask Felipe, he will tell you that manic is what I do best and when I am happiest. The more projects the better. So to prove his theory correct, I spent the weekend frosting darn near 100 cookies for an upcoming baby shower. I thought they came out pretty cute. Kinda like helmut head Playmobil babies. But then I had to browse the cannelle-vanille blog. Talk about feeling inferior. What else do I have going on? I just finished making a trough of mango chutney--literally enough for an Indian wedding banquet. (I burned 800 calories carrying the sacks of mangos from the farmer's market.) This too for the shower (which incidentally is at my apartment) along with a paper mobile (just try sourcing a grommet punch in Brazil). And we haven't even started on the lunch to be served nor the desserts (The Playmobil cookies are the party favors, okay?). Of course, my regular life is still going on at this time. Taught a class today. Worked at being a good mom. Fed my under-the-weather husband spaghetti for dinner. But I must stop now, lest you think I am complaining.
Because, well, I have a blog to tend to.
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