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Nerd Night: Bishop’s Cake with Raspberry/Lime Glaze

Spring Break is upon us, and on Saturday, Monkey jetted off to see his dad, Otto took Chickadee to an event at her soon-to-be college, and my lovely friend Ruth who lives too far away came to spend the weekend. Instead of spending quality time with my offspring the night before they left me, I spent quality time in Atlanta traffic gabbing endlessly with Ruth, and then we went out washed down our weight in sushi with a couple of martinis as if we were party animals. (All was forgiven because Ruth makes her own AH-MAZE-ING chocolates and she brought us a box of goodies. The kids might’ve missed me, but hey, CHOCOLATE!)

Saturday we did some random walking around, more stuffing of our faces (gourmet tacos, this time), and then flopped on the couch and watched baking shows. When Otto and Chickadee returned, we played Cards Against Humanity (“Oh I’ve never played this before,” quoth Ruth… GUESS WHO WON?) and went to bed entirely too late.

Before we turned in, though, I starting combing through recipes. “I think they’re having Nerd Night without Monkey,” I said. “Chickie will go. I need to make something tomorrow morning.” Ruth not only makes candy, she’s a master baker (and also sweet and pretty and hilarious and it’s okay, you can hate her a little), and she suggested I find a Bishop’s Cake recipe.

When I asked what it is, she said, “It has a crumb like nothing else you’ve ever tasted. It gets crispy on the outside but it’s buttery on the inside. It’s simple, but it’s amazing.” Bishop’s Cake it would be, then.

bishops-cake-whole (more…)

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3 things about The Vagina Monologues

1) Although this year was my fourth time being part of my local production, everything was different this time because Chickadee was in it with me, too. We could not have picked a better way to come full circle from the first time I was in it, years ago. (And if you want to read more about her, head over to Alpha Mom. I don’t know if you know this, but I am awfully fond of that kid.)

2) I’m not sure how (lies, I know how; I am largely oblivious), but my ENTIRE FAMILY conspired with Kira and kept me completely in the dark until SHE APPEARED AT MY FRONT DOOR ON SATURDAY and I started screaming loudly enough for her to hear me outside. This is because Kira lives 2,000 miles away, and I had no idea she was coming, and in fact I hadn’t even asked her to try to get to the show this year because we’ve never been able to manage it before AND she went back to college this year and went from being insanely busy to actual, like, truth-is-less-believable-than-fiction levels of swamped. But she came all this way to see the show and spent less than a day with me because she is the best.

3) There is video. [Editing to add: NSFW video, obvs.] My husband set up shop the night he came to see the show and so if you missed it but are dying to see my piece (and if you are, I am both flattered and slightly uneasy, but that’s another matter…), you can. But Imma put it after the jump, here, because I don’t think we need it sitting right on the front page. If you don’t need video, you’re done. (more…)

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Vegas, baby

So. Kira and I went to Vegas and took the town by storm!

Hahahahaaaaaaaaaaaa. Not really. But we had a good time.

It started like this: Every summer for the past 10 (!!) years or so, Kira and I have conspired to see one another. As ours is one of those “fake Internet friendships” where we simply met online while both of us were freshly divorced and newly wrecked, we’re not REAL friends, of course, but somehow at that first meeting long ago it turned out that neither of us was a pedophile living in a basement, and our friendship turned into a real boy, Geppetto (a real girl?), and we have been soulmates ever since. This is slightly inconvenient for our husbands, but not, because as wonderful as both of our husbands are (and believe you me, each was assessed in full by the non-marrying friend for worthiness prior to the actual gettin’ hitched part), neither of them wants to hear the sheer volume of words that pour from our mouths when we are in one another’s company.

We’ve somehow managed to visit once a year for a decade, even during the leanest years. Because it’s important. I will forever owe a debt of gratitude to Joshilyn for hosting us for that first girls’ weekend in 2005, during a time when I was depressed and directionless and had forgotten that sometimes girlfriends make it all better. Also, that was my first visit to Georgia, and at the time I had NO IDEA I’d be moving here not too long after. After that first time, we took turns visiting each other’s houses, but—I don’t know if you know this—we have rather a lot of children between us, and so there were always many small people in our faces during each visit. This isn’t AWFUL, you understand, but we felt like after a decade, we deserved a trip just for us. So earlier this year we pulled out a map and said, Hey, what’s between us? Maybe we can meet in the middle…? And so we planned to fly to… Texas. (more…)

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Just a friendly reminder

While I’m not fond of the old trope about moms always putting themselves last, a large part of the reason I dislike it is because—for me, anyway—it tends to be true. Thank goodness I have friends who sometimes drag me out of the house. I hear it’s even good for a person to do that! So I’m over at Alpha Mom today with a few words about my Village and how much I appreciate it.

And as long as you’re over there, last week I rounded up some of our favorite soup recipes, which you may find useful as this second round of Arctic weather hits us.

Friendship or soup; take your pick.

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Raising kids is not for wimps

I have two sort-of-parenting-related things for you today:

1) I’m coming clean and I’ve donned my fireproof suit; over at Alpha Mom I’m explaining why I feel justified in snooping on my children. Now I just sit back and wait for someone to explain to me why I’m a terrible person, right? Because that’s how the Internet works.

2) While I am merely angering random people online, some other folks are doing awesome charitable things while being rockstars. For the entire month of October, my friends Asha Dornfest and Christine Koh (co-authors of Minimalist Parenting) are donating 100% of royalties from books purchased via this link to WOMEN AT RISK, an Ethiopian organization that helps women lift themselves out of prostitution. Their book is fantastic, anyway, and this is an easy way to extend your charitable reach for a worthy cause. Go buy a book. Heck, buy two—they’re small.

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It’s just like that song

There’s so many things I wanted to tell you about our camping trip, but somehow I got stuck on a title. What could possibly convey the depth of emotion in just a few words? How could I make it clear what these few days meant to us?

Somehow Paradise by the Dashboard Light got stuck in my head, and then I started thinking that “Pigs and Cards by Mosquito Bites” might work, but then you’d have to know that I was thinking of the song, and also that it’s a very different kind of paradise, and… yeah, it got kind of complicated. Just trust me that IN MY MIND that all made perfect sense.

In the meantime, I just went over to Alpha Mom and wrote about the little joys in hanging out with our special needs tribe, because it was really fantastic. (Also: really, really loud. Boys! So many boys.) Come on over and take a look.

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So very warm and fuzzy

Here’s a part of a terrible picture I snuck around a corner of Kira‘s house and snapped while my girly was chilling out with her new posse:

(From left to right: Tre watching Max play a video game, Max playing said video game, Chickadee texting and making Max into her personal cushion, and Raphael desperately wishing he was the one playing the video game.)

There’s something unspeakably awesome about your friend’s kids welcoming your kid into the fold, so of course I wrote about our trip for Alpha Mom because I still feel like there are cartoon bluebirds circling my head. (Sure, they’re teenage bluebirds with stinky feet and they periodically squabble with each other, but still.)

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Teenagers and travel and moths (oh my)

There was a time in my life—a long time, actually—when I thought I would have a houseful of children. Then I realized I was neither independently wealthy nor particularly patient, so I figured 3 or 4 kids would be plenty. And then, y’know, life happened, and I ended up with two kids and the realization that I am perfectly content with the size of my family. (Well, okay, some days I’m perfectly content and some days I am willing to sell the children for puppies or parts or even just to make the noise stop.)

So this is to say that I have no regrets about the state of my life or the size of my family. On the other hand, I packed up Chickadee and we flew out here to Kira‘s house, and I am positively marinating in pack-o-teens and lots of kill-me-dead-with-the-adorableness of watching said teens cater to Sophia (who is FOUR and a BIG GIRL), and there is a not tiny part of me which thinks that having an entire houseful of rowdy children would be really, really awesome.

Kira and I have been friends for coming up on a decade, now, and this is the first time our children have met, which is just weird because my kids know Kira and Kira’s kids know me. (I’m bummed that Monkey isn’t here, but he is still off being manly with Otto.) I think it took about half a day for Kira’s boys and Chickie to fall into an easy pattern of competing to see who could be the most obnoxious to each other (it turns out that my 15-year-old and Kira’s nearly-15-year-old may actually be sharing a brain, which is both frightening and FANTASTIC), and suddenly I can picture what life would be like if we formed a commune. It would be loud, mind you, but very entertaining. (more…)

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Just what I didn’t know I needed

So, uh, this week has kind of sucked. [Sidebar: Thank you for the kind words and thoughts and emails after that last post. I consider myself very lucky to have so many kind folks out there in the Intertubes giving a damn about us, and on low days like that one, it helps more than you know.] When things sucks, I like to go full hermit. I don’t want to talk to you, I don’t want to see you, I don’t want to do anything but curl up and maybe talk to Otto a little bit and hug my kids. That’s just how I am.

Lucky for me, my dance card usually isn’t full, so if I hit a time like this when I want to hide, it’s not hard to do. (Hooray for maladaptive coping!) But this week as things started crashing down around me, I looked at my calendar and realized that one of my oldest friends was coming to town. And my first inclination, quite honestly, was to call her up and cancel. Because STUFF, man, and THINGS and HARD and WAHWAH and I am an iiiiiiiiiislaaaaaaand!

Last year, I probably would’ve canceled. I would’ve apologized, profusely, and I would’ve felt like a shitty friend, and I would’ve gone back to hiding (now with extra self-flagellation) and that would’ve been it. But I have GROWN AS A PERSON (haaaaaa) and so I didn’t cancel. (more…)

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Have smart friends, especially in hard times

When you don’t know what to say, it’s always good to have friends more articulate than you are.

My friend Kathryn is smart and articulate and beautiful and committed to being part of the light in the world. I’m going to try to follow her example. Thanks, Kathryn.

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