Inner Personalities

A few of my "inner personalities" have come out of dormancy in the recent past...

The Inner Fashionista:
Two weeks ago, I purchased my first ever bottle of nail polish and attempted to paint my own fingernails.
I am passing the polish along to Amy as soon as I can.  The colour looks much prettier in the bottle than on my fingers.  This has something to do with the colour of the polish itself in contrast to my skin, but it is also related to the uneven texture that results from a rookie fingernail painter.  My left hand looks like it got run over by a truck (I'm a leftie).

The Inner Chef:
Last week I, of my own accord, found 2 recipes, made a grocery list, and actually baked mocha muffins (these are tasty, but SO heavy...almost pound-cake consistency) and whole-wheat zucchini bread (a fantastic recipe - just enough sweet topping and so moist!).  From Scratch!  I have never ever enjoyed baking or cooking, but I think now that there are fewer cooks in the kitchen, I can attempt new recipes and ideas with the confidence of someone who has nobody looking over her shoulder and whose husband will eat just about anything and call it delicious.

The Inner "super"Mom:
Last Saturday I was in Waterdown, staying at my parents' house for a few days, and Mom and I made home-made applesauce and home-made baby food.  I baked, scooped, smashed, watered-down, and froze about 5 cups of sweet potatoes, since they were on sale at Fortinos this week.



Growing up, I always felt like I probably should like these activities - playing with my hair and doing fancy makeup designs; baking cookies and cakes and planning fancy dinners for dates I'd never go on; playing with those dolls that eat and pee.  I never did - someone else was always better than I was at being "maternal" or "culinary" or "fashionable".  And now I feel like I'm getting my chance to enjoy those things I was afraid to try - afraid to fail at.
I still don't have the "fashionable" down, but I'm making progress with maternal and culinary skills.  For now, I will blame the dormancy of my inner fashionista on the equally dormant inner wealthy person.