Frustration

I tried really, really, REALLY hard to make a good loaf of bread today: measured precisely, used the instant yeast packet instead of the active rise jarred, kneaded for a full 25 minutes, got gooey dough up to my wrists and all over the kitchen, made beautiful couches with my tea towel, used my new $50 baking stone. It was lousy. LOUSY. My loaves were nothing more than run-of-the-mill homemade bread with thick, hard crusts. I don't understand what I'm doing doing wrong. I just can't seem to get those huge holes in the bread that they do at the bakeries. The loaves I made in class and then refridgerated over night were even better than today's loaf. Did it rise too long? Did it rise too short? I just can't seem score the loaf and get it on to the baking stone with it losing half its volume. I will try again tomorrow, but I'm running out of patience. 

On a positive note, my pasta sauce turned out well. I think using fresh tomatoes and six cloves of garlic really make a big difference. 

Jonah spent his first night and first nap in his twin bed. He got out of bed a couple of times, but after I threatened to put him in his pack-n-play, he stayed in his bed. Genna was so different. When she first started sleeping in her twin bed, she thought of it as her crib. She would not get in or out of her bed unless mommy or daddy were there. Even though she was completely capable of climbing out of her bed, she would wake up in the morning and yell for mommy or daddy to get her out of bed. She would wait until we were in the room and then crawl out of bed. Not Jonah. He's in and out of bed five times in three minutes. It's a bit difficult to put him to bed... and keep him there. 

Genna's second outfit of the day. I wasn't quick enough to capture the first.

Third outfit of the day: Tights, purple dress, striped long sleeve shirt, short sleeved shirt on tip with yellow headband.

P.J.'s Even pajamas have to be layered, long sleeves underneath the tank top nightgown.

Jonah is still at the age where he doesn't get to pick out his own clothes. Though he does beg to put on his football onesie, he does not have the capability to dress himself yet. Thus, he's wearing Genna's old footed-pajamas. This photo was taken moments before he crawled out of bed and started pushing around a suitcase. Not sure where the suitcase came from, presumably my bedroom closet.