Monday, July 14, 2008

Not Her Father's Daughter ... Yet

I made ribs yesterday. Geoff grabbed them while we were at Costco on Saturday and I got up with Phoebe around 10 yesterday to start them. They take several hours in the oven so our condo smelled fantastic all day.

When they finally came out of the oven around 4, the meat was falling off the bone (they were almost too soft, if that's possible). We didn't eat dinner until around 7, but the ribs were perfect at room temperature (and went very well with our caipirinhas). Phoebe woke up at 8 wanting some cuddling before she went back to sleep at 9, so we had a nice uninterrupted dinner.

Because Geoff had to work in Cambria today (and had to be there at 7 a.m.) he went to bed early. I was praying Phoebe would be her usual great sleeper last night.

Of course it was not to be.

She woke up at 1 wanting to eat, which was fine. At about 1:30 she started screaming, obviously in pain. Gas pain.

I guess Mommy can't eat ribs for awhile.

I assume this is something she'll grow out of eventually ... I mean, she is Geoff's daughter so the bone collector title will have to live on through her. Of this, I am certain.

But last night when she was in pain until 2:30 in the morning (and I knew Geoff's alarm was going to go off at 5) I felt horrible for the poor babe (both of them). Luckily this morning she ate just fine and the rib gas seems to have left the building.

Meanwhile I'm wondering what I'm going to have for lunch now . . . anyone know how to make milk toast?

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