Twenty-four weeks. The baby — Caleb — is the size of an ear of corn, according to the app, which continues to compare my child to produce in a way that I find increasingly unsettling. He kicks constantly now, especially at night, especially when I'm trying to sleep. He is already an Abernathy: nocturnal, stubborn, opinionated about timing.
The belly is unmistakable. I can't hide it, can't suck it in, can't pretend I'm just bloated from too much pasta salad. I am visibly, obviously, pregnantly pregnant. Strangers at the commissary touch my belly without asking, which I HATE with the fire of a thousand suns. Jen told me to start saying 'Don't touch me' and I tried it once and the woman looked so offended that I apologized. I am too Southern for boundaries.
I've been cooking more ambitiously. The morning sickness is gone, the appetite is back (with a vengeance — I'm eating for two, and one of us is apparently a teenage boy), and the kitchen has become my sanctuary. I cook for hours. I make things I've never made. I tried Mom's pot roast last week and it was GOOD — actually good, not just 'not bad.' The soy sauce, the red wine, the slow simmer. I'm getting it. I'm getting the feel.
Mom noticed. 'The pot roast sounds like it came out right,' she said on the phone, after I described it in obsessive detail. 'Did the gravy thicken?'
'Yes. I used the drippings and flour and it thickened.'
'And the meat?'
'Fell apart.'
Silence. Then: 'You're a cook now, Rachel.'
Not 'you're learning to cook.' Not 'you're getting better.' YOU'RE A COOK NOW. Present tense. Arrived. Done.
I cried. Pregnant crying, which is its own category — everything makes me cry, but this was real crying, the kind that comes from hearing your mother validate the thing you've been working toward without knowing you were working toward it.
I made Mom's banana pudding tonight. Not for any reason — just because I wanted to. Vanilla wafers, bananas, vanilla custard (made from scratch on the stove — eggs, sugar, milk, cornstarch, vanilla, stirred until thick). Layered in a dish, topped with meringue, browned in the oven.
I ate it alone at the table. Caleb kicked through the entire dessert. This child has opinions about banana pudding.
He's definitely an Abernathy.
The banana pudding I made that night — layered, custard-rich, finished with meringue — reminded me that the best desserts are really just an act of assembly and patience, the same two things I’m learning apply to everything right now. This Pistachio Eclair Dessert lives in that same spirit: graham crackers standing in for wafers, a cool and creamy pudding center, all of it built in quiet layers and left to set. It’s the kind of dessert Mom would make without a recipe and present like it was nothing, and now — finally — so can I.
Pistachio Eclair Dessert
Prep Time: 20 min | Cook Time: 0 min (plus chilling) | Total Time: 4 hrs 20 min | Servings: 12
Ingredients
- 1 box (14.4 oz) graham crackers
- 2 packages (3.4 oz each) instant pistachio pudding mix
- 3 cups cold whole milk
- 1 container (8 oz) frozen whipped topping, thawed
- 1 can (16 oz) chocolate frosting
Instructions
- Make the filling. In a large bowl, whisk together the pistachio pudding mix and cold milk for about 2 minutes, until the mixture begins to thicken. Fold in the thawed whipped topping until fully combined and smooth.
- Layer the base. Arrange a single layer of graham crackers in the bottom of a 9x13-inch baking dish, breaking crackers as needed to fill gaps evenly.
- Add filling. Spread half of the pistachio pudding mixture evenly over the first layer of graham crackers.
- Repeat the layers. Add a second layer of graham crackers on top of the pudding, then spread the remaining pudding mixture over them. Finish with a final layer of graham crackers on top.
- Top with chocolate. Remove the lid and foil seal from the chocolate frosting. Microwave the frosting for 20–30 seconds until it reaches a pourable consistency, stirring well. Pour and spread evenly over the top graham cracker layer.
- Chill. Cover the dish with plastic wrap and refrigerate for at least 4 hours, or overnight. The graham crackers will soften to a cake-like texture as they absorb the pudding layers.
- Serve. Slice into squares and serve cold directly from the dish.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 380 | Protein: 4g | Fat: 14g | Carbs: 60g | Fiber: 1g | Sodium: 410mg
About the cook who shared this
Rachel Abernathy
Week 125 of Rachel’s 30-year story
· San Diego, California
Rachel is a twenty-eight-year-old Marine wife and mom of two who has moved five times in six years and learned to cook a Thanksgiving dinner with half her cookware still in boxes. She married young, survived postpartum depression, and feeds her family of four on a junior Marine's salary with a freezer full of pre-made meals and a crockpot that has never let her down. She writes for the military spouses who are cooking dinner alone in base housing and wondering if they're enough. You are.
