Out with the Old… in with the Slightly Different


So, this wee little project has come to an end. I promised that I was going to blog about being pregnant while in culinary school. Well, I’m done being pregnant and I’m done with culinary school. I feel like this is a good time to close out this blog. (Stick with me for the rest of this post. There’s a surprise at the end. Dude, don’t jump ahead. Just read on…)

What I Learned About Babies and the Process of Making Them

  1. Miscarriage is not a bad word. It is definitely a sad word, but you can talk about it.
  2. Making babies is a lot more fun than birthing babies. I’m sure you knew that already.
  3. Babies are cute and that cuteness can apparently take a baby far. Or, at the very least, keep the parents from committing bodily harm to the screaming (albeit cute) face in the middle of night.
  4. The amount of baby “stuff” that invades a home with a newborn is a force of nature. It does not matter if you board up your windows or put sandbags in front of the door. Small stuff will seep into your home. Little socks, caps and inserts for bottles, small hats, bouncy/shaky/vibrating contraptions, onesies, twosies, threesies… it’s a nightmare.

    Teddy in a chef outfit

    See? Dress up is fun.

  5. It certainly is fun to dress a baby up, especially since they do not have language skills yet. Dressing up babies is a parent’s way of getting back at the screaming, crazy beast child that now encompasses your entire day.
  6. Babies WILL make you buy a minivan. Or, if your baby is less evil, it will make you trade in your really cute Mini Cooper for a Subaru crossover SUV. Mean baby.
  7. Babies CANNOT make you give up heated seats. No matter how hard they cry and whine.
  8. Babies are cry babies.

What I Learned About Becoming a Chef

  1. I don’t want to be a chef.

And, that’s the crux of it. The thing I thought would be the scariest (being someone’s mom) turned out to be pretty simple. Of course, I now live by the following words: If I am wearing a shirt and pair of pants without dried baby vomit, it is a good day.

The thing that I thought would be the easiest way to change careers turned out to be not so career-changing. I went to culinary school to learn that I still don’t know what I want to be when I grow up. Somehow, that’s OK with me right now. I am faster in the kitchen, more aware of what foods I like and what foods will kill me, and I have a huge appreciation for chefs that love food and do it well.

What’s Next?

The final take-away (to use a corporate bullshit-ism) of this project is that it reminded me how much I like to write (or blather on, yes… sometimes it’s just silly prattle). I’m continuing to blog about food and the making of it. I’m keeping the restaurant reviews, throwing in a few utensil reviews, and writing about new (and old) recipes.

So, join me on my new site, Kitchenalia, to read my continued misadventures in the kitchen.

Oh, and because I can’t resist taking pictures of my son that he will hate me for later, here’s the happy product of my culinary school adventures.

Lizzie and Teddy wearing matching (yes, matching) chef outfits

That's right, I bought my son a monogrammed chef outfit. I'm just that sort of crazy mother.


One comment

  1. Cute outfit!

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