10 years and counting...
In our house you don't get a simple birthday. You get a birthday week, and even, why not? a birthday month. At least if you are the child in the house. I am not very good at acknowledging my own birthday, not in any celebratory sense. I have a vague sense of nausea, and a melancholy for my own day, not because I fear aging - it often seems that I am getting younger, not older - no, it has more to do with my desire to keep my expectations on a short leash, and therefore never expressing any desire for what I would really like.
This year I celebrated a decade of motherhood, though. Not a small feat, to say the least. I still feel like I fail in so many small ways each day. But I did one or two things right. My new band, recently proclaimed the "Wachinangos" (whose significance shall not be discussed here and now), and I had a small radio show thanks to Jorge, and it was a joy to be singing live, and publicly. A bigger joy perhaps to feel the glow of knowing we did a good show, that my voice sounded good, good enough for people to call in and say as much. Tomás, our guitarist pointed out that the one who should be celebrated is me, because I did the work... he teases me for not being enough of a diva. I don't think I could ever be a diva, not when it comes to music. I just don't feel that confident in my abilities, nor would I want to treat anybody else as if they were less valuable than I, because they are not.
So the birthday month began well (minus the night before homework meltdowns... 4th grade isn't easy!). I baked brownies from scratch (though I had only unsweetened cocoa powder rather than baking chocolate bars) for her to share with her class. I baked my very favorite childhood cake - no frosting, not even terribly sweet, but with wonderful scalded poppy seeds and a cocoa, cinnamon sugar swirl... My parents were out of the country in the Caymans, so I could not call my mother for the recipe which I had misplaced for the umpteenth time, so I winged it with a new, healthier set of ingredients, and it turned out pretty amazingly.
Our dinner was with I. and Sara, my beloved thesis advisor, who happens to share the day. It has become a tradition for our "family" birthday party to always include a dual celebration. I made broiled salmon with lemon pepper, and homemade ratatouille from fresh veggies: eggplant, zucchini, tomatoes, onion, garlic and mushrooms. Sheer heaven. I.'s birthday vegetable was an enormous (unfinishably so) globe artichoke, her very favorite in the world. Shannon and Danielle were there. Bekki and the kids came for dessert. It was a nice kickoff to the celebrations.
Still to come: Friday night girl-fest. 8 9-11 year olds, and an overnight party that starts at 4 in the afternoon and ends the following day at 11 am. I must be insane. I know. For the party I have promised: a pizza-sized chocolate chip cookie (from scratch, of course) to be baked on the new round pizza trays that I acquired last weekend in a dollar-store run to Santa Maria made last Friday with Lexi and her daughter J. (it was the weekend custody-swap run, I didn't drive all the way there merely for party supplies, I swear!). And: almond-crusted chocolate pudding pie (at I.'s request) also from scratch (as if I make things any other way), with Bekki and Nate's amazing almond meal. (2 cups almond meal, 2 T. cinnamon sugar, 2 T. melted butter. Pressed into a pie pan. Baked 20 minutes until crisp and golden brown. My recipe for perfection.) Bekki will bring her marvelous peach cobbler and Lexi will set up the bobbing for apples (I will salvage what is left for the apple pancake breakfast the following morning!). I am a firm believer in delegating tasks and asking for help when I need it.
The girls will make their own pizzas with fresh dough and ingredients, and craft their personal salads. I know, I am that embarrassing mom that makes kids eat vegetables and "healthy" snacks instead of the glorious junk of our childhoods... but... that's just who I am, and they still seem to like me.
Movie on a large screen TV, and then creating a magical sleeping zone for 8 small bodies on the floor of my living room.
So will end the birthday week, but not the month... Subsequent activities include a trip to Orange County for a water polo tournament. I. has become quite the little athlete (and just the other day I spent a few hours in the pool playing catch with her... uff. strike the earlier statement about getting younger and younger... my whole back was tense for an entire day... that is one hardcore sport!) Possibly also a trip to San Francisco, and, yes, if at all possible an overnight camping trip to the Channel Islands...
Somewhere in all that celebration I have more job interviews and a summer trip to plan, as well as a dissertation to start finishing, (no, not finish starting, I swear... the end is in sight.) Sometimes, just sometimes, I feel shocked and overwhelmed, and shocked again... how does it manage to get done, you know? Not the birthday stuff, I make it a point to make her feel special, or at least I try... I love her to bits, even when I lose my temper... it isn't that at all.. but sometimes I wonder how the little stuff gets done, every single day. The homework and practice, the field trips and play dates, the dentists and insurance, the literary and spiritual nourishment. The hurt feelings and evolving friendships. The moral training, every day of her life to be a kind, loving person... 10 years. It seems like yesterday... who knew it would be so hard? and who knew it would be so easy?
This year I celebrated a decade of motherhood, though. Not a small feat, to say the least. I still feel like I fail in so many small ways each day. But I did one or two things right. My new band, recently proclaimed the "Wachinangos" (whose significance shall not be discussed here and now), and I had a small radio show thanks to Jorge, and it was a joy to be singing live, and publicly. A bigger joy perhaps to feel the glow of knowing we did a good show, that my voice sounded good, good enough for people to call in and say as much. Tomás, our guitarist pointed out that the one who should be celebrated is me, because I did the work... he teases me for not being enough of a diva. I don't think I could ever be a diva, not when it comes to music. I just don't feel that confident in my abilities, nor would I want to treat anybody else as if they were less valuable than I, because they are not.
So the birthday month began well (minus the night before homework meltdowns... 4th grade isn't easy!). I baked brownies from scratch (though I had only unsweetened cocoa powder rather than baking chocolate bars) for her to share with her class. I baked my very favorite childhood cake - no frosting, not even terribly sweet, but with wonderful scalded poppy seeds and a cocoa, cinnamon sugar swirl... My parents were out of the country in the Caymans, so I could not call my mother for the recipe which I had misplaced for the umpteenth time, so I winged it with a new, healthier set of ingredients, and it turned out pretty amazingly.
Our dinner was with I. and Sara, my beloved thesis advisor, who happens to share the day. It has become a tradition for our "family" birthday party to always include a dual celebration. I made broiled salmon with lemon pepper, and homemade ratatouille from fresh veggies: eggplant, zucchini, tomatoes, onion, garlic and mushrooms. Sheer heaven. I.'s birthday vegetable was an enormous (unfinishably so) globe artichoke, her very favorite in the world. Shannon and Danielle were there. Bekki and the kids came for dessert. It was a nice kickoff to the celebrations.
Still to come: Friday night girl-fest. 8 9-11 year olds, and an overnight party that starts at 4 in the afternoon and ends the following day at 11 am. I must be insane. I know. For the party I have promised: a pizza-sized chocolate chip cookie (from scratch, of course) to be baked on the new round pizza trays that I acquired last weekend in a dollar-store run to Santa Maria made last Friday with Lexi and her daughter J. (it was the weekend custody-swap run, I didn't drive all the way there merely for party supplies, I swear!). And: almond-crusted chocolate pudding pie (at I.'s request) also from scratch (as if I make things any other way), with Bekki and Nate's amazing almond meal. (2 cups almond meal, 2 T. cinnamon sugar, 2 T. melted butter. Pressed into a pie pan. Baked 20 minutes until crisp and golden brown. My recipe for perfection.) Bekki will bring her marvelous peach cobbler and Lexi will set up the bobbing for apples (I will salvage what is left for the apple pancake breakfast the following morning!). I am a firm believer in delegating tasks and asking for help when I need it.
The girls will make their own pizzas with fresh dough and ingredients, and craft their personal salads. I know, I am that embarrassing mom that makes kids eat vegetables and "healthy" snacks instead of the glorious junk of our childhoods... but... that's just who I am, and they still seem to like me.
Movie on a large screen TV, and then creating a magical sleeping zone for 8 small bodies on the floor of my living room.
So will end the birthday week, but not the month... Subsequent activities include a trip to Orange County for a water polo tournament. I. has become quite the little athlete (and just the other day I spent a few hours in the pool playing catch with her... uff. strike the earlier statement about getting younger and younger... my whole back was tense for an entire day... that is one hardcore sport!) Possibly also a trip to San Francisco, and, yes, if at all possible an overnight camping trip to the Channel Islands...
Somewhere in all that celebration I have more job interviews and a summer trip to plan, as well as a dissertation to start finishing, (no, not finish starting, I swear... the end is in sight.) Sometimes, just sometimes, I feel shocked and overwhelmed, and shocked again... how does it manage to get done, you know? Not the birthday stuff, I make it a point to make her feel special, or at least I try... I love her to bits, even when I lose my temper... it isn't that at all.. but sometimes I wonder how the little stuff gets done, every single day. The homework and practice, the field trips and play dates, the dentists and insurance, the literary and spiritual nourishment. The hurt feelings and evolving friendships. The moral training, every day of her life to be a kind, loving person... 10 years. It seems like yesterday... who knew it would be so hard? and who knew it would be so easy?
posted by ilana at 9:20 p.m.
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