Happy Birthday Dude!

Back in the early 1990s, when my sister Faith and I were at our very most awkward (I fervently hope that is the most awkward I will ever be!!) we displayed our intrinsic hipness by going from calling our Dad "Dad" to calling him "Dude" (keep in mind this was long before the Big Lebowski, although in my opinion, David Brainerd could give The Dude a run for his money in straight up coolness).  I remember feeling a bit of excitement whenever I'd yell "I love you Dude!" in a crowd, like I was a secret badass.

Here are the facts:

1. My Dad is cooler than yours
2. My Dad has the best hair, and had no problem letting us style his tight curls into "Bozo the Clown" (even when we didn't have a clue who Bozo was)
3. Even though he hasn't had a mustache since I was a teenager, any time I see a man with a mustache, I immediately feel a bit of fondness toward him because of my Dad's old 'stache
4. The same goes for men smoking pipes 
5. Dad wore flannel shirts before they were cool in the nineties, and still wears them today (actually, they're the exact same shirts, and the elbows have pretty much disintegrated)

I have an amazing relationship with everyone in my family; we're a close bunch, and genuinely like each other (okay, I can only speak for myself, maybe there's an "I hate Jessy" club going on behind my back, but if there is - they're very good actors when we're hanging out).  

Some of my best memories are of doing regular old stuff with Dad/Dude.  I remember a particular trip to the dump (probably around 1987/1988), and Mom giving the usual warning of not bringing anything home.  Sure, I remember it smelling pretty bad at first, but I got used to it - and then I discovered all the treasures! I remember being baffled at what kind of person would throw away perfectly good furniture, books with the covers missing, wood that could be made into something, and more!  *I am pretty sure that we did not come home with less than we brought to the dump, but hopefully it was so super cool that Mom didn't mind.

Recently, my daughter asked me "Do you know what my favorite memory is?" I said "No," and she proceeded to reminisce about an awesome day at Dad's cabin a few years ago.  We drove up for the day, went for a walk in the woods, and Dad did his usual foraging for chives and other woodsy snacks that I would have walked right past.  I cooked up some chicken in the fire pit in his dooryard (this was before he had the chickens in the dooryard, so it wasn't a creepy thing to do), and we created art with our chicken - it was just a super chill, fun day - beautiful weather, beautiful scenery, all of that.

Three generations of cool

Dad showing off his creation, and his information source

It's memories like hers, and mine of the dump, that make me thankful I didn't grow up wealthy.  While I'm sure that folks with plenty of money have plenty of great experiences, I don't know if they are as capable of finding beauty in the little things.  Maybe that's way too judgey, I don't know.

The reason for all of my Dude-based-memories is that it's the big guy's birthday today!! He's a whopping sixty-one and seems to be improving with age.  Some day, I look forward to hearing my grandchildren talk about their fun times out in the woods with the Dude, too.  

Fifteen Years

It's that time of year again.  My Halloween costume is almost perfect, I've successfully resisted the urge to eat too much candy (okay, let's say that my teeth are still in my head so I must not have eaten too much, right?), the heat has finally kicked on, and my arm is still a wee bit sore from my flu shot.

It must be my daughter's birthday.

She's fifteen this year, and I can't fathom where all the years have gone.  I can remember, quite clearly, the anxiousness waiting for her to make her arrival (scheduled two weeks before she showed up), and then the effort to bring her around (and the resulting promises that I would NEVER do that again).  She was perfect - her hair was (and still is) the brightest shade of red - shiny like copper - and every nurse in the wing of the hospital had to come see the little red-headed baby.

Life isn't a perfect thing, and being responsible for an entire new human being at the ripe old age of nineteen wasn't a smooth process.  Within days of coming home from the hospital, she had jaundice severe enough to require a nurse to come to the house, and for her to be a "suitcase baby" (the 1998 home version of the incubator my sister Faith stayed in at the hospital in the 1970s).  I will never forget the helplessness I felt when doctors were explaining that one of the possible outcomes of severe jaundice is brain damage.

Through the toddler years, she had chronic ear infections.  We've battled bronchiolitis, with its companion nebulizer.  Over the years there's been pneumonia, asthma, ankle sprains, ankle surgery, and strep throat countless times, nevermind the time she fell on a broken mason jar in a pond, and I spent the most terrifying twenty minute car ride to the Emergency Room with her assuring her that "No, you aren't going to die," all the while regaining my ability to pray and asking God to make that be true.
There is nothing that can prepare a nineteen year old (or a thirty-nine year old, or a ninety-nine year old) for the complete transformation from a woman to a mother.  It is, without question, the scariest, funniest, saddest, and most fulfilling thing that I've ever done.

Fifteen years in, I've heard "I love you" more times than I can count, and "I hate you" more times than I'd like to remember.  We've had long, enlightening conversations about politics, and short, angry conversations about school clothes.

I'm not sure when it was that she went from being a little combination of her Dad and me (with some of our extended family thrown into the mix) to being a completely separate person.  Yes, I know that she's always been her own person - but I can't remember when I realized that!

The crux of it all is that I love her more than would have ever imagined I'd be capable of loving.  I am proud of everything she accomplishes, she's one of the most intelligent people I know, creative, eloquent, and with fantastic taste in entertainment.

Here she is, on the day we met.

At nineteen, I certainly didn't have a clue what I was in for - but oh, it's the sweetest and most unpredictable ride of my life, and we've got decades more to go!

The Birthday Cake of the Gods

Have I mentioned that I love to bake? Well, I do!  And, while there's a decent chance you'll come across a cat hair in whatever it is I've made for you - I promise it'll be worthwhile (for reals, I do try to find all the cat hair, but seriously - there are three felines in this house, and you can't turn around without running into one of them).

It's my lovely daughter's birthday, mad props to both of us for surviving fourteen years together! Honestly, I'm one lucky Mama; she's crazy smart, funny, kind, etc. We've been talking about her birthday cake for about a month now. Many ideas were thrown around: Chocolate with peanut butter frosting, cheesecake, chocolate with chocolate frosting, chocolate with cream cheese frosting, etc.  FINALLY, yesterday, a decision was made:

Four Layer Dark Chocolate Cake with Milk Chocolate Cream Cheese Frosting, and layers of White Chocolate and Chambord Truffle Filling (also the truffle filling drizzled on top).

I used my fave old standby chocolate cake recipe, but had to google chocolate cream cheese frosting (it's pretty easy), and the truffle filling recipe was taught to me by my best friend.

Fact of the matter - this is the greatest cake I've ever made, or eaten.

For your visual enjoyment:

Four layer dark chocolate cake with milk chocolate cream cheese frosting, and layers of white chocolate & chambord truffle filling - Best cake ever!

The cake with the super stylish plates & forks!

Fourteen Years Ago

While a significant chunk of the country is under water, and suffering in awful conditions caused by Sandypocolipse/Frankenstorm/SUPERstorm/Angry Water, we, in Maine, have been pretty much unscathed.  I was a bit concerned for my brother, as he lives a literal stone's throw from ocean waters, but, other than some sand in the road, he seems to be A-okay, and my lucky nieces got a snow day!

I was, honestly, hoping for a rain/storm day (usually I'm hoping for snow days, but it's been in the high fifties), but when I watched footage of what's happening all along the Eastern Seaboard, I am quite happy to have to work.  I was watching streaming weather.com on my laptop until about 4:00 this morning, constantly peeking out my window and wondering where my storm was.

When I woke up the lovely Miss A this morning, I sang "Happy Birthday" to her (just as I did at midnight on the dot last night - a bit of a family tradition), and we agreed that having to deal with work/school is vastly superior to having a tree on our car, or having our house flooded and all of our things ruined.

Yesterday, in the car, while out collecting ingredients for her birthday cake, I told her the story about the day she was born *don't worry - I totally left out the really gross parts.  The wildest thing about it all was when I said "well, you'll be fourteen tomorrow, I was five years older than that when you were born."  I'm so thankful that she is such a collected, smart lady, hopefully she'll make wiser decisions regarding the timing of having children!!!

While I might regret the timing of my introduction to parenthood, I will never ever ever ever regret my introduction to my girl.  Honestly, we've done some growing up together, and have a fantastic relationship now.  We noshed on some trial birthday cake for breakfast, and will have lobster rolls and french fries for dinner tonight.

So - while yes, this is an awful day for a lot of people, it's an incredible day for me.  Fourteen years ago today, I had the chance to meet the person who had been making me so uncomfortable!

The Prettiest Girl in the Room

Irish Jig + Booze Cruise = Broken Ankle?

First off, let me state, unequivocally, that I had an absolutely AMAZING 30th Birthday weekend in Boston - it was completely awesome - I got the surprise of a lifetime when Faith showed up at the Blueberry Festival last weekend, and the fact that she was there - with Sarah and Conni - meant all the sisters were there, then we had Mom and Lynn and Jani - so all of the sisters of that generation were there - it's a WOW moment.

Now comes my words of caution: Let's say that you're going on a booze cruise - you're not very intoxicated, but you have a couple of drinks in you - maybe when Dropkick Murphys come on - you should NOT do an irish jig in your 2 1/2 inch heels. This is a suggestion, but I really feel like you should listen to me.

Now I'm rocking the air cast and a pair of sneakers with my stylish skirt. Not as awesome as the heels, I know, but what can a girl do? I'll know within a day or two whether or not it's broken. Whatever - I had an amazing time - that's the important part!

I love lists

I will always be thankful for short weeks due to long weekends (specifically the kind that have a paid holiday involved). I am so glad that the weekend is coming up so fast. This month is flying by, and I have so much to do in the way of packing and sorting and cleaning and EVERYTHING.

Here is my to do list for the rest of the month:

Sort through everything I own
Pack up everything I want to keep in a nice, organized fashion
Pick Faith up from the airport
Get Azi and my halloween costumes straightened out
Work two jobs
Plan Azi's birthday party (this includes invitations, making cake, wrapping gifts, etc.)
Move into the fabulous new apartment
Do loads of laundry

I know there's more - but that's all I've got for the moment!!