How I Ruined My Daughter's Birthday

I actually started ruining my daughter's birthday about a week before the big day itself. What can I say? I'm a planner.

But before I share all of the gory details, let me back up a little.

Actually, this whole story is me backing up a little, since it's been a full week since her birthday, and I'm just getting around to chronicling it's many failures. Anyway.

February 2004

This is Rachael. Sweet and smiley from the very beginning, the precious bundle of awesome that first made me a mom. She was a horrible sleeper, early talker, late walker, and had a larger vocabulary at age three than most adults that I know.

She has since overcome most of these things. At age twelve, she is now a terrific sleeper, walks just fine on her own, and her vocabulary is largely limited to facts about Fall Out Boy and Doctor Who. But she's still smiley, and I still love her so.

Which is why I felt so awful when I not only ruined her birthday, but just continued to ruin it through the day. Ready for the story? Okay, here goes...

Listening to the box...

First of all, I ordered a gift that arrived five days prior to her birthday. Planner, remember? And of course, when UPS delivered the large-ish box and she immediately asked, "WHAT'S IN THE BOX?!" (because she is also nosy), I told her that it was her birthday present. And that she wasn't allowed to hold the box, or shake it, or even smell it. So she listened to it instead.

Because, you know. Maybe it was going to meow at her or something.

I didn't make that up, by the way - that's what she actually suggested. So her little sister ran with it and told her that, yes, we actually got her two kittens for her birthday, and if she couldn't hear them meowing inside the box, then they must be dead.

She knew better. I promise, she did. But it still opened up an incredible opportunity for us to tease her about her box of dead kittens for five days leading up to her birthday, because that's the kind of family we are. So that's the first way that I ruined Rachael's birthday.

The next opportunity presented itself on the day before her birthday, when I decided to bake her cake ahead of time. I had a busy evening ahead of me, so I thought I'd bake the cake, let it cool, and frost it in the morning. No problem...baked the cake, headed off to rehearsal, even hit the gym afterward. I knew I'd be late getting home, so I texted the hubby and asked him to please take the cakes out of the pans.

When I rolled in around midnight, he woke up just long enough to tell me that he wasn't able to get the cakes out of the pans. Like, he tried, and just couldn't.

And immediately, I knew that my plan had gone horribly wrong.

You see, Rachael had requested the most chocolate-y cake EVER, and had picked out double fudge cake mix and some kind of fudge-y icing, but I had decided to go her one better and make it even more super amazingly awesomely chocolatey. So I dumped a whole bag of chocolate chips into the cake batter before baking. Yep. 

I mean, chocolate chips melt when they're baked, right? So wouldn't the cake be better with little bits of melty chocolatey yum baked inside?

Well, let me tell you what really happens, lest you ever be tempted to try this yourself. THEY DON'T MELT, not really. They get soft and lump up a little, but mostly what they do is make your cake dense. Think very large, very wet sponge. That crumbles when you look at it, much less touch it. It wasn't coming out of the pans without a fight.

But fight it I did, because birthday cake and midnight and too late to go back to the store for more cake mix. So I wedged the first layer out of the pan and plopped it onto the cake plate, only about half of it stayed in the pan because I am so smart. So I did what any good mother would do - I scooped out what stayed behind and plunked it back into the hole in that layer of cake.

It was at this point that I realized that there was no way - none - that I would be able to frost this monstrosity. So I manhandled the second layer on top of the first, with no icing in between, because at this point, insert-bad-word-of-your-choice-here. Then I dumped the whole can of icing on top and smeared it around.

No, I did not even attempt to put any icing on the sides, as touching them created a crumbly chocolate avalanche. So there you have it. A lump of dense, damp, but VERY chocolate-y cake-like creation, smeared with chocolate icing in exactly 1/3 of the places where icing should be present. And then I went to bed.

Early the following morning, Rachael woke me up, anxious to open her dead kittens birthday present - which I had, by the way, eventually wrapped. She was very excited to be the proud new owner of a ukelele - which she had talked about wanting to learn to play, but never actually asked for, because she probably figured I'd say no. (I will say that's one thing I'm actually pretty good at it - catching little gift ideas out of their conversations and surprising them later. Yay, me!)

And then it was time for our birthday morning tradition: birthday pancakes. These aren't just any pancakes, though - these are made with cake batter in the mix, accented with lots of sprinkles, and topped off with a sweet glaze instead of syrup. It's basically birthday cake for breakfast, but it's only a couple of times a year, and it's their birthday. So I pulled up the recipe from Chocolate, Chocolate and More and got started. Mixed up the batter, dumped in half a jar of sprinkles, things were going great!

Birthday pancake batter, with lots of sprinkles!

While the pancakes were cooking away on the griddle, I started gathering ingredients to make the glaze. Milk, vanilla, yep...hey, my kitchen cabinet was looking especially good! The hubby had just gone on a little cleaning spree and de-junked it for me, organized everything, the vanilla practically jumped right into my hand!

But, something was missing.

I had two or three half-bags of powdered sugar in there, undoubtedly left over from Christmas baking. But I didn't see them anywhere. Where could have put them?!

Turns out, he had put them in the trash. Because...I don't know, in Man World a half bag of powdered sugar equals trash?! He didn't have a good explanation for it, either. But in the meantime, I had a glaze to make, and no powdered sugar. I did a quick Google search - what in the world can I substitute for powdered sugar?! Turns out, there IS no good substitute for powdered sugar. I found a few sites that gave lengthy, scary descriptions about how you can double-boiler granulated sugar to make it work approximately the same way, but well...ya'll know how crafty I am in the kitchen. And fortunately, my children also know this, and assured me that syrup on the birthday pancakes would be just fine.

And it was, I guess. Only it really wasn't. Because they were supposed to have glaze. Plus, mom guilt.

Now, there wasn't much to do on her actual birthday, it being a Wednesday in the middle of nowhere and all. I asked her if she wanted to go somewhere, and she did. She wanted to go to Dollar Tree. To look for a headband for Valentine's Day. I tell you what, my girl knows how to party.

Determined not to mess up lunch as spectacularly as I had messed up breakfast, I took the girls to Chik-Fil-A.

And much to my amazement, nothing went wrong while we were there.

I guess the rest of her day was okay, just not exciting like I think a birthday ought to be. Which leads me to my next confession of mom guilt: I did not throw my child a party this year. It's the first birthday ever that she hasn't had an elaborately themed party with quirky decorations, games, favors, and a cake that had taken me hours to decorate and also wasn't falling apart on the sides.

There is a reason for this, though: she had decided several months earlier that she needed tickets to see Fall Out Boy in concert - even though the concert isn't until March - and that it could be her birthday gift and she didn't need a party and we could probably even not feed her any more until March, she just desperately needed those tickets. So, the tickets are a thing. It's exactly eleven days now until the concert, and I know this because she's been updating me every single morning since the countdown was over 100. So her real gift is coming. The ukelele was a bonus. But still no party. And I still feel bad about it.

But, we made it through the day, and she said she was happy to mostly stay at home since, for homeschoolers, birthdays are 100% a school holiday. 

Rachael got a ukelele, but the cat got the box.

Once the hubby got home, we had dinner (why is it that food is always the highlight of my day?) and I busted out the cake wreck. 

Less bad.

Once I added the candles a little decoration on top, it did look a little less bad. If you looked at from directly on top and not from the side at all, not even a little bit.

And Rachael was happy with it, because chocolate, and cake. Even though once we tasted it, it had an oddly coffee taste to it. And in the spirit of full confession, we each had a slice that night, and the rest eventually found its way into the trash. But there was ice cream too, so the night wasn't a total loss.

But, you know, I was feeling pretty rotten by this time. No party, token gift on her actual birthday, messed up the pancakes, just plain ruined the cake. What a stinker of a 12th birthday.

So I went to her room before bed, gave her hugs and kisses and told her how much I loved her and how proud I am of her, and apologized for the rotten birthday.

And my girl. She said, "are you kidding?! This has been one of the best birthdays ever."

I think I'll keep her.

And I'll make sure that her next birthday is even better.

* * * * *

This post is linked up at Diana Rambles and Kitchen Fun with My Three Sons. Stop by and find lots of awesome blog links at each site!

What's this about a holiday?

I hear tell that this weekend is special, for some reason. A holiday. The end of summer. People going to the pool, going on vacation, having a long weekend. None of that here, though - Gene worked today and he'll work again on Monday. Just another "weekend", such as it were.

Today was special for another reason, though. My Milly's best friend turned four! We celebrated with her at a princess party this afternoon, and my girls (along with six other princesses) had a blast.

Check out that fancy pink tablecloth! There were even candlesticks, plus balloons and streamers - it was all very pink and pretty. The girls had a great time playing in a castle tent, hunting for dragon eggs, blowing bubbles, dressing up in all sorts of princessy attire. Plus a pair of leopard print pants that weren't princessy, but were kind of hilarious.

Their family is so dear to us, and I love celebrating birthdays with them. How neat is it that my girls' best friends are also sisters? Rachael and Sophie were best friends from the time they met, before they were even two years old. A few years later, Sophie's mom and I each had another baby girl, only three months apart. Milly and Annika really had no choice but to be good friends as well.

So now that Annika is four, we're on a slippery slope to Milly's fourth birthday. I hate to even consider it...this, from the child who was supposed to stay a baby.

Happy Pink Saturday to my blogger friends...and wishing all of my readers a fun-filled Labor Day! (I'll be spending mine cleaning the house. Yep.)

* * * * *

How about a Saturday 9?

1) Has anyone ever intentionally ripped you off? Or perhaps unintentionally?
Oh yes. Intentionally and unintentionally, I'm sure. Who hasn't experienced this...monetarily, emotionally, and in a host of other ways?

2) When was the last time that you made a quip that fell completely flat and embarrassed you?
I guess it's been a while, because I really don't remember.

3) When you go to sleep, does it you need to be absolutely quiet or do you need a little noise (radio, TV, music or white)?
It doesn't really matter - I usually prefer quiet, but noise doesn't bother me much. Gene has to have a fan pointed at him in order to sleep, and that irritates me since the thing sounds like a jet engine. But soft noise doesn't keep me from sleeping, and is even nice sometimes.

4) Do you have a memorable "ripped clothing" moment in your life? No? How about in someone else's?
Wow, I must live a boring life, because I really don't. The few times I've managed to rip my own clothing, I've done it in the privacy of my own home. The worst I've done in "public" happened when I worked in an office - I had a favorite long, lavender skirt that I wore to work, and I constantly rolled over the hem of it with my desk chair. It did eventually rip, but only on the hem...no big embarrassment, and a pretty easy fix.

5) What's changed on your blog since its inception? ...a redo? ...a change of pace? ...or is it still business as usual?
Not much has changed since I've blogged as JCWBS - maybe a change of background, adding to buttons, etc. (Although I have ideas for sprucing up that I intend to implement as soon as I learn how!) I originally started blogging on Xanga, though, and tried Typepad and Wordpress too before I landed on Blogger. Definitely like Blogger best.

6) Can you remember where you were in life ten years ago? If you could travel back in time and whisper something to yourself ten years ago, what would it be?
Oh, that's an easy one. In September 2011, I was still a newlywed. Gene and I had been married for five months. I had a good job that I mostly enjoyed; we lived in a tiny house that I loved anyway, because it was the first one that was MINE (and then OURS.) I had two kitties (Samantha and Church), and a dog (Brittney), and I still miss them. My grandma was still living. If I could go back and whisper something to myself ten years ago, it would be to spend every possible second with her, because she'd be gone in just two short months.

7) Okay, let's have it! What's the craziest, most impulsive thing you've ever done?
I'm not a crazy, impulsive person. (It would be fun to be, though!) The only thing that comes immediately to mind is the evening when I was out with Gene and his best friend...not having anything else to do, we decided to go to the beach. And back. In one night. Even though it's a good four plus hour drive. But I was young, we were in a convertible, and it was pretty great.

8. If you were having a bad day what or who would you turn to for comfort?
Chocolate, my Bible, K-LOVE (contemporary Christian station) on the radio. The order varies. Sometimes Gene, depending on his mood and schedule.

9) According to the song White Rabbit, "one pill makes you larger and one pill makes you small". If you were offered these pills today, which pill would you take and where would it take you?
Oh, no question...I'd grab the pill that makes you small, and I'd go clothes shopping.

32

Today has been an interesting day. For starters, at 8:37 p.m., I turned 32 years old.

I've been having issues with the number 32 lately. In my late teens and exceptionally early 20s, I spent a lot of time around a then-boyfriend's older brother and sister-in-law. These folks had their act together - they had their own home, jobs, a truck and a minivan, one kid already and another on the way. They were responsible, they were mature, they were grown. And for some reason, I vividly remember one of them (I forget which) turning *gasp* 32.

32 didn't seem old to me when I was 18-19-20, it just seemed like an entirely different world from the one that I inhabited then.

Flash forward a dozen years or so...and I have my own home, a relentlessly full-time job (what do you call parenting and homeschooling?), several vehicles, and two kids. I have responsibility in spades, and some people might even call me mature. (At the very least, I can fake it quite well when the need arises.)

But grown? REALLY?! Am I really capable of all of that? Well, I guess I am. I've never had my driver's license snatched away. My kids are healthy and happy and usually kind of reasonably behaved. Other people regularly entrust me with their children, and I can't think of a higher act of trust in my capability. So I guess I'm sort of doing the grown-up thing. But inside, I still feel like a teenager, wondering what I'm going to do with my life, how exactly I got into this situation, and why on earth I'm trusted with so much. I have everyone fooled! The joke is on them! HA HA HA!!

And I wonder if other thirty-somethings feel the same way. Are we ALL just putting on our grown-up hats and pretending to be responsible adults? Surely not. But maybe...

Other ways that this day has been interesting:

• This has been my first birthday spent (mostly) alone. My girls are with me, on vacation at the beach, but no husband, no parents, no friends. No party today. *sniff* But I have amazing friends that made sure I had one before we hit the road. It's kind of been "just another day", only not. That makes sense, right?
• Did I mention that I'm at the BEACH? I heart the beach. A lot. Despite the heat (I'm usually not a fan), I'd rather be beside the ocean than anywhere else in the world. So any day that I spend being knocked around by waves is A-OK in my book.
• I touched a horseshoe crab.
• I saw real live mermaids. (Quite possibly the highlight of Rachael's entire LIFE.)
• Sharks came to celebrate my birthday! I didn't see them, but they came close enough to shore that lifeguards ordered everyone out of the water. Maybe they thought I had cake.
• I had no birthday cake. :(
• But I did get a giant hat!

Yeah, a guy on stilts made that for me while we were having dinner at Margaritaville. I can finally say that I've eaten a Cheeseburger in Paradise, and it was deeeee-lish.

Those milkshakes belonged to the girls, though. I'm so finding me a birthday-type dessert tomorrow.

It's been a great day, despite the oddness...and I hardly felt a thing when I actually turned 32. Funny how the things that I dread usually end up being not-such-a-big-deal after all.

My Big, Whiny Comeback Post

When I blow a New Year's resolution - or rather, goal - I do it completely. One of my goals for this year was to blog regularly, and yet here I am on April 18, having not blogged in more than two months.

There are several reasons that I've been MIA from blogdom:

1. busy
2. busy
3. busy
4. fear of writing the dreaded big, whiny comeback post when I finally decided it was time to start blogging again.

The biggest reason, for the past couple of weeks, has been #4. So much has happened in the past two months - where in the world do I begin...again?

My last post detailed Rachael's 7th birthday, back in February. Gene had just started his new job with Utz, and was enjoying it, despite the crazy hours that were sure to get better soon.

Thing is, they haven't gotten better. The poor man leaves home at 4 a.m. and we don't usually see him again until 6-ish. The spring semester hasn't yet ended, which means that he doesn't get home until around 10 p.m. on Tuesdays, and the girls don't see him at all that day. Once or twice, he's gotten incredibly lucky on one of his "short" days and gotten home around 3:30 or 4. There's no day off mid-week as he was told when he signed on. And I've learned that his having to work every single Saturday sucks about a million times more than I expected it to.

In theory, we should still see him from about 6-10 (his new bedtime) four nights a week, slightly longer on Saturday, and all day on Sunday. But since he is still in school, and taking two online classes in addition to his Tuesday night class, he has to devote at least a night or two per week to studying, taking quizzes online, and going to the college to take tests. On Sundays, our routine is church-lunch-nap (because he doesn't get enough sleep now, ever, and he's a beast if you insinuate that something could be planned that would maybe interfere with his Sunday afternoon nap.) Sunday evenings usually include his doing more schoolwork and my doing the grocery shopping. We truly see each other in passing most days.

This has meant that I've had to pick up more slack at home than I was previously used to. When it was still cold - through February and March - the job of building a fire in our outdoor furnace and keeping it going through the day fell to me. Learning to build a fire wasn't as hard as I thought it might be. In fact, I've learned to embrace my teensy inner pyromaniac and actually rather enjoy seeing things go up in flames now...within the confines of the furnace, of course. What stunk was never having enough kindling to get the stupid fire started, or enough wood cut that was smallish enough for me to chunk into the furnace, since he didn't have time to cut anything in the evenings. This resulted in our having to buy two loads of already-cut firewood - which really irked our chickens since we have 27 wooded acres from which to find firewood.

He no longer has time to take out the trash. Or check the mail. Or several other menial tasks that I'm quite capable of handling myself. The thing is, when you add any menial task to the kazillion things that a mom already does on a daily basis, it's kind of a pain in the butt. As is never knowing when he may finally get to come home, which makes timing a hot evening meal practically impossible.

Of course, I still have it better than he does...I still get to stay at home with my children, and I don't have to drag my carcass out of bed when it's still dark outside. I don't have to deal with other people all day long unless I choose to do so. I don't get even one day off per week, but even my "work" time is more leisurely.

Still, I hate this. HATE it. Loathe, detest, despise and abhor this. I knew that this job was going to be such a blessing to our family, after years and years of trying to get out of the sawmill where he worked before. I had no idea that it would mean never seeing him, that our children would be sad that Daddy is never home. I don't know how women manage whose husbands are gone - really gone - all the time. I would lose my mind.

But hey...free chips.

Back in February, Rachael participated in the Missoula Children's Theatre production of Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs. She was so excited and nervous to audition this year, since she auditioned last year and didn't get a part. We were all thrilled when she had a great audition and was cast as one of the evil queen's pet bats (clearly, this was not your traditional telling of the story!) Auditions were held on Valentine's Day - a Monday evening - and the children rehearsed all week before performing in two shows on Saturday. Thankfully, Gene was able to finish up in time to catch the second performance. I couldn't miss either one. :)

I survived my first Girl Scout cookie season...with much encouragement from my troop co-leader and the moms in our troop. I thought it would be so much fun to do the whole thing myself, being my first year as a leader, but I'll definitely be recruiting more help next year. Gene and Rachael attended their second Girl Scout daddy/daughter dance, and she looked just like a little princess. And our troop attended a lock-in at a nearby mall - a dozen girls from 10 p.m. until 7 a.m. No one slept until 4 a.m. I didn't sleep at all. And I hope we get to do it again next year. We only have three meetings left before breaking off for summer - as well as a service project, a yard sale, and a trip to a farm with a ropes course and zip line. Our last meeting of the year will be a fairly big to-do, with pizza, sundaes, games, awards for the girls, and the ceremonial "bridging" of some up to the next level of Scouting. I'll cry, but I'll also be happy for the reprieve of summer. Being a troop leader has been so much more time-consuming than I imagined it would be, but also so much more rewarding. I love "my" girls - all 18 of them. 18! After we worried that we may not have the five we needed to start our troop last fall! We just keep growing and growing, and are actually holding two spaces for next fall, which will make us a troop of 20.

In March, I celebrated my first anniversary with Scentsy...with a BIG promotion, thanks to a fundraiser that I landed with an area high school band. They did so well that I was able to write them a check for $1400, and I was promoted two levels, to SuperStar Consultant. The next step up is Director, and I want it. It may take me a while, but that's my goal. I have a great little team of eight going, I still love the products, and the company is one that I'm proud to be associated with...so I'm still "the Scentsy lady."

That wasn't the biggest deal in March, though - I loved celebrating my friend Cathy's 30th birthday with her! I wish I could have made just a huge, spectacular deal out of it, but her party was a lot of fun. (Turning 30 made her even again, while I'm still odd...but I'll be even again before long!) She's such an amazing friend, and such a blessing to me...I've never had a friend quite like her, and I hope to celebrate many more milestone birthdays with her.

And on April 7th, another reason for celebration - our 10th anniversary! That sounds like such a long time, and then like no time at all. I told him when we celebrated our 5th anniversary that if I put up with him for five more years, I'd be needing more diamonds for our 10th anniversary. He didn't disappoint - I got a beautiful new wrap for my engagement ring, and I definitely don't want any more ring on that finger now. Hmm, what idea should I start planting in his head for our 20th...?!

So to recap - I'm tired. Gene isn't here. Rachael is sweet, when she's not being sassy. Milly is still mean, with a side of cuddly. I still need a housekeeper, I spend way too much on gas, and our church conflict has yet to be resolved. Life goes on, even though I'm a little overwhelmed with it.

There's so much more that I could share, but the update will suffice for now. I'll be back soon, with randomness rather than an overview. I miss Pink Saturdays and the Saturday 9, and although the idea of the Wednesday Weigh-in makes me a bit queasy, it's something that I should be doing as well. There was also a giveaway that was left hanging when blogging disappeared entirely from my stream of consciousness...I'll be emailing the store owner soon to see if we can resume that. My apologies to those who entered already.

SEVEN

Today has been a long day. A loooooong day. Any day spent in utter servitude to another human is bound to be a little exhausting...but this one was pretty wonderful as well.

Rachael woke me up at about 7:45 this morning, which might not sound so early to some people, but anything before 8 just isn't my speed. Still, I obligingly rolled out of bed and down the stairs to ooh and aah over the new fish bowl on the table, decorated with shiny pink and white rocks and home to a pretty little black and bluey-purple betta. Rachael tossed around a few names for her new pet - Swimmy? Teresa? - before finally settling on Daisy.

My girls helped me make breakfast - pancakes made with real cake mix and a liberal dose of sprinkles, topped with a sweet glaze containing even more sprinkles. (This was totally not my idea - I saw them here and couldn't resist.) They turned out great, and there were even plenty of leftovers for Daddy.

After breakfast, we spent a leisurely morning together doing not much of anything. Around 11, we headed into town to pick up our troop's Girl Scout cookies - which wouldn't all fit in my van, necessitating a second trip to pick up the rest, and Rachael's deciding to skip her Thursday art class in favor of a less rushed afternoon.

Then it was off to Gramma's house, for spoiling, gifts, and cake. Then back home to unwrap her big gift (a pink Nintendo DS!), pick up Daddy, and out to dinner at the place of Rachael's choosing. Anywhere at all, baby - dream big, live it up! And so we ate at McDonald's.

We came back home and Milly asked to put the candle on her sister's cake. Rachael made a wish and blew it out at 7:33 p.m. - the very minute that she turned seven years old.

Every one of her birthdays are bittersweet. On one hand, I celebrate the anniversary of the day that my life changed forever - the day that I became more than just myself, more than just a wife and a daughter and a friend, but someone's mother. Is there a more wonderful title that one can possess? A more noble calling that one can aspire to? An undertaking more utterly terrifying?

And on the other hand, every one of her birthdays reminds me of how quickly she's growing up. SEVEN. Wow. She's definitely not a baby any more. She can do so many things independently. She doesn't rely on me for much of anything, actually. If I suddenly decided to stop cooking, oh well...she can make a sandwich and use the microwave and open containers. No further assistance is needed in matters of personal hygiene - she's even overcome her fear-slash-hatred of the shower and can wash her own wonderfully/painfully long hair. Heck, she can even take her little sister in the shower and bathe her at the same time. She dresses herself and has recently become very modest while changing as well. She can turn on the TV and find a favorite show to watch, or sit down at the computer and Google anything she wants to know (thank goodness for parental controls!) She can read very nearly anything. Use the phone. Clean her room. Train the dog. Sing along to the radio. Wash the dishes.

She's only seven years old, and I'm becoming obsolete.

Oh, I know...I have years left before she's an adult, and so much more to teach her, so many more adventures ahead. But one can hardly help noticing that she's not going to be a cuddly little girl for much longer.

It's unfair, really, that these precious years when the children are small seem to fly by so much faster than others. Couldn't I have fast-forwarded through the awkward big-hair and braces middle-school years instead? I'd have happily sacrificed every one of those for more time to keep my babies...babies.

So, now I'm mother to a seven-year-old. Thank goodness that nothing has changed but the number. She's still the sweetest child (except to her sister), sensitive and thoughtful and beautiful and such a blessing to me. As many tears as I've cried over this silly emotional-mama birthday post, I'm so proud of the young lady she's becoming. She just has the sweetest little heart of any child I've known...God has His hand on her for sure. I can't wait to see what He has in store for her later on.

Only I can. Wait, that is. I'm interested, but in no big rush.

Happy birthday, baby. I love you to the moon and back.

Food-y Birthday to You! (And a giveaway too!)

Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to you!

What's that? It's not your birthday, you say? Well, a very merry un-birthday to you, then. But it IS my honey's birthday - he's 37 today and I can tell you that since a) he's a guy and doesn't care like a woman does, and b) it's written on his cake, which I'm going to post a picture of, so you would know in just a minute anyway.

Unfortunately, his day was very much the same as any other, seeing as how he had to work...but he did come home to two very sweet cards made just for him by his little girls (both comprised of crayon, lots of time, and a heap of love) and tickets for the movie that he wants to see this weekend.

Oh, and he ate well today. Not in a nutritional sense, mind you. Just in a way that meant several of his favorites that he rarely has made for him all heaped into the space of one day.

I actually started last night, with sausage balls. I HATE MAKING SAUSAGE BALLS. Hate it, hate it, hate it! There's only one way to make the things, that I've found, and that is to dig right in with both hands - into a bowl of cold, raw sausage, Cheez Whiz, water, and Bisquick. Even if you've never made sausage balls before, you can probably imagine what a disgusting feeling that is. It takes forever too, but it results in this:


...and really, seeing him running for the oven as soon as they come out makes it mostly worth the hassle.

So he had sausage balls to snack on through the day on his birthday, and then came home to one of his favorite dinners - a Pampered Chef recipe consisting of sausage, pasta, sauce, cheese, and a lot of pepper. Can't remember the exact name of it, so we call it "sausage pasta stuff."


It's tasty, but as Gene says, it feels like a brick in your stomach when you're done...which is just one reason why we don't have it very often.

And finally, the pièce de résistance, the thing that he has asked for repeatedly for the past month, his chocolate and peanut butter cake (another amazing creation by Brittany):


I could go on ad nauseum about how talented she is with a cake, but I can sum this one up in three words: peanut butter buttercream. *drool* (If you're local and need a cake, I promise, you cannot beat hers.)

Even at 37, Gene finds it hard to share some things.


So yes, he has had a very food-y birthday, and I just hope he doesn't pay for it tomorrow.

* * * * *
To celebrate Gene's birthday, how about a little something for YOU? (Or for one lucky reader, at least.) I've been promising a giveaway for a while and just haven't gotten around to the pictures and posting, and shame on me for it. (Not to mention my apologies to the fine folks at Snapware, who are making this giveaway possible.)

Okay, so SNAPWARE - ever heard of it? If not, you're missing out! Snapware is, basically, plastic storage containers that snap together to form towers of nice, neat storage. Most of the containers come with two trays that snap together, but really, you could add as many as you want. They offer products for storing food, household and craft items, holiday decorations, even canisters for storing pet food. There's really something for just about anything you need to store.

They were kind enough to send me two items to review. The first was the Large 2-Layer Rectangle Snap 'N Stack. Each tray measures 14.5"x10.25"x3.75", so it's really a good size for storing a whole bunch of things. I still haven't decided what will be stored in it permanently, actually - at the moment, it's holding my knitting. As you'll see, just one tray is plenty large enough to hold a baby-blanket-in-progress, long knitting needles and the pattern book. Best of all, it keeps everything tangle-free and dust-free in the loooooong intervals between times I actually feel like knitting.

(The bottom tray is obviously not attached in this picture. However, each tray has plastic tabs on each side, like the ones seen here, that snap onto layer upon layer upon layer...okay, Snapware actually recommends a max of five layers, but I still need to see that for myself.)

The second item that I received from Snapware was the one that made me sit up and take notice in the first place: the 2-Layer Cupcake Carrier. This thing is awesome. It's actually very much like the Large Rectangle Snap 'N Stack - the sizes are only off by about 1/4", and honestly, I'm pretty sure I mixed up the bottom trays and they still fit.

The really cool thing about the Cupcake Carrier is that each tray comes with an insert with twelve little "cups" on one side...so that when you make cupcakes, you can place them all neatly inside and carry them to wherever you're going, resting assured that they're not going to end up in a mangled mess of cupcake mush before you get there. (Assuming some caution in handling, of course...if you just open your car door and sling the whole thing into the backseat, then you just plain deserve a mess.)

I got my hands on the carrier just a couple of days before Milly's third birthday, so of course I had to make celebratory cupcakes to take along on a playdate. She insisted on pink cake, with pink icing and sprinkles.


Look how NEAT they fit in there! Even cooler - see the little handles on the sides of the tray? Well, you can lift up the tray and hook the handles over the edge of the container, and it raises the whole thing right up to serving level, so you don't have to stick your whole hand down in the box to extract them and then bring it back with icing smeared everywhere.

Here's what the carrier looks like fully loaded with two dozen cupcakes:


Ohhh, how I love it. But you know what? It gets even better. Those little trays with the handy cups for holding cupcakes? They'll also fit upside down in the tray, turning the handles into legs and effectively dividing each tray into two. Perfect for cookies! Especially the peanut butter ones with the Hershey Kisses on top, because those things don't stack well anyway. Here we are ready for a little Christmas entertaining:


So to recap - two layers for cupcakes, four layers for cookies (or whatever else you want to carry.) The whole thing is perfectly food-safe and BPA-free, of course - as are all of Snapware's products. Even dishwasher- and microwave-safe, most of them. Not to mention cute and terribly convenient.

Want Snapware of your own? (You really do, even if you don't know it yet.) Here's a list of retailers - most of which we don't have where I live, but I have noticed them at both Lowe's and Target.

Alternatively, you could just win some of your own. Here are the details...

Prize: Snapware has generously offered one lucky blog reader the same two containers that I was sent to review - the Large Rectangle Snap 'N Stack and my beloved Cupcake Carrier.

Restrictions: Open to U.S. residents only.

To enter: Visit Snapware.com and sign up for discounts and special offers. (Look for the green "Join Now" button on the right.) Leave me a comment to let me know that you've signed up, and you're in it to win it! As always, please be sure to leave your email address with your comment so I can contact you if you win.

That's the mandatory entry, but here are some ways to earn extra entries as well. Each one is worth one additional entry unless otherwise noted; please leave one comment per entry, and don't forget your email address!

Additional entries:

• Follow June Cleaver Would Be Shocked via GFC.
• "Like" Snapware on Facebook.
• "Like" June Cleaver Would Be Shocked on Facebook. (+2)
  
• Follow me on Twitter. (+2)
• Follow Snapware on Twitter.
• Snag my button (top right of this page) and add it to your blog. Leave a link in your comment! (+3)
• Blog about this giveaway and leave me a link! (+2)
• Tweet about this giveaway - may be done once per day.
• Subscribe to this blog via email - just look near the top right for that too. :)
• Comment on another of my posts (let me know which one!)
  

Contest ends: 11:59 PM EST on Sunday, January 23. Winner will be chosen by random number generator and emailed immediately. Please contact me within 48 hours to claim the prize, or a new winner will be chosen.

That's it - have fun and good luck!

Happy, happy birthday, baby...

Today was a big day at our house...it started with singing at 7:04 a.m., the exact minute that Amelia first graced us with her presence three years ago. After gifts and breakfast, we headed off for a playdate, bearing the pink cupcakes with sprinkles that she had requested. Then we visited with Papa and Grandma (more presents, more sugar) and then on to Gramma's, where a house full of people waited to celebrate with the birthday girl (even more presents, even more sugar.) Finally home at around 10 p.m., Milly collapsed happily into bed, three years old, a BIG GIRL.

Although it was a fun day, and I enjoy spoiling my babies on their days, I don't know of a mother anywhere who doesn't celebrate her child's birthday with just a twinge of sadness. Who gave these babies permission to grow up so stinking fast, anyway? Has it really been three years already? And holy cow, in a couple of months, my other baby will be seven! Quelle horreur!

I briefly considered reposting Amelia's birth story as a way to commemorate her special day - after all, she didn't exactly enter this world in the typical fashion. Upon reviewing, however, I decided that it's a little too personal to share here...so I'll revise the narrative into an informational Milly timeline instead. (If you're squeamish about birth stuff or just don't want to know, feel free to scroll down quickly until you see the pictures of my little beauty at the end!)

November 27, 2007 - heard a distinctive wooshing sound as Milly's due date flew by.
December 1 - felt odd sense of relief that my baby girl would have a prettier birthstone than she would have if she had been more punctual.
December 3 - Milly officially more overdue than her sister had been.
Friday, December 7 - ten days overdue, and rather miserable. Had a midwife appointment that morning, and every intention of begging them to do something to get this show on the road. Appointment canceled because of sleet and freezing rain between me and the midwife. Rescheduled appointment for the following Monday morning if still no baby. Cried a little.
6:50 p.m. - in desperation, chugged a vile concoction of two ounces each orange juice and castor oil. Midwife had mentioned it, after all, although she wouldn't expressly tell me to try it. Had tried it with Rachael to no avail, so didn't really expect anything.
8:00 - nothing.
9:00 - nothing.
10:00 - nothing.
10:30 - hey...ow...that hurt a little...
11:30 - hmm, these bad boys are five minutes apart. Called midwife (Alicia) to report. She told me to call her back around 1 with an update - meanwhile, she'd load up her car and take a quick nap.
11:35 - yelled at Gene to clean up the living room before the midwives came.
Saturday, December 8, 12:00 a.m. - Gene goes to bed, telling me to wake him up when there's something new to report. Mama in labor + quiet house + everyone else asleep = GRRRR.
12:02 - decided to take a shower. Gotta be clean to have a baby, right? Thought the water would feel good too. Didn't help as much as I'd hoped. Contractions actually started coming closer together.
1:00 - Called midwife again. Contractions five minutes or less, and regular. She said she'd pick up my doula (Sam) and be on her way. It's about a two hour drive, so I estimated that she'd be here around 3:30.
1:15 - decided to get some rest until the girls arrived. Went to bed.
1:16 - well, that was a stupid idea. Out of bed and into the rocking chair. Much more comfortable. Rock, breathe, rock, breathe, rock, breathe...
2:30 - barf.
3:00 - midwife/doula should be here any time.
3:30 - no sign of them yet.
3:45 - where the heck are they?! Woke Gene up and demanded that he start inflating the birthing pool, about ten minutes ago would've been good, and I want some grapes, STAT.
4:10 - midwife/doula had gotten lost (oops) but finally found me. Checked in, then left me alone while they hauled all their stuff in from the car.
4:15 - well, CRAP. Hot water heater not up to the task of filling a birthing pool. Midwife/doula fly into action, boiling water in every available vessel and dumping it into the pool. Felt vaguely sorry for them, being called out in the middle of the night to boil water, but I had bigger fish to fry.
5:30 - midwife came to check on me again. Listened for baby's heartbeat (good) and checked for dilation (6cm).
6:00 - into the pool. Expected immediate relief (water being the "midwife's epidural" and whatnot), but not so much. However, the novelty of being both in a pool and in my living room was pleasantly distracting. Hung out draped over side of pool, chatting with midwife/doula. Gene hung around in background, trying to be invisible.
6:20 - ohmigosh, gonna barf again. No trash can in living room. Doula Sam scurries off in search of receptacle.
6:20:05 - Sam finds large bowl in kitchen.
6:20:06 - can't hold it any longer...
6:20:07 - Sam does very cool slo-mo run from kitchen, hands holding bowl, outstretched, and
6:20:08 - makes it just in the nick of time. Whew.
6:45 - ooookay, things are getting serious now. Can't possibly be time for her to come yet, though, I was just at 6cm...?!
6:50 - nope, it's time. Fleeting notions that this drug-free thing might not have been such a good idea. OWOWOWOWOWOWOWOW...
7:00 - oh crap, Rachael is awake! Gene rushes upstairs, phone in hand, to call his dad to come and pick her up. Doula Sam sends Gene back downstairs and offers to help Rachael get dressed. Nope, Rachael wants to see her Mommy and doesn't care what else is going on.
7:03 - Rachael comes downstairs and sits by the side of the pool (zero visibility of the action, of course.)
7:04 - Holy relief, Batman! Beautiful baby girl is born into the water, and MY hands - not a random doctor's latex gloves - are the first things to ever touch her little body. Lifted her out of the water and onto my chest, wrapped blankets around us both, fell in love.
7:15 - out of the pool, into my favorite (waterproof pad-lined) chair, where Milly had her first meal and nursed like a pro.
7:30 - cord clamped and cut. Score full benefits of delayed cord cutting for Amelia!
7:35 - finally let Gene hold her while midwives helped me (very wobbily) up the stairs and into the shower.
7:50 - clean, dressed, and in my own bed with my new baby girl. Midwife looked Milly over and checked stats - 9 lbs, 6 ozs and 19" long. APGARs of 8, 10 and 10. Incredibly perfect. <3


3 days old:

One year old:


Two years old:


Today...three years old:


My little girl is growing up too fast. Although I'm amazed by the beautiful girl she's turned into, it seems like no time at all that she was a baby. So here's hoping that the next year passes by just a little more slowly...