Three Plus Two

There comes a day...

... when your son can reach the salt that someone mistakenly put on the top shelf, and you can't. 

I always knew this day would come.  I just thought it would take a little longer than eleven years.

Katydid's Strawberry Heaven Cake

Katydid turned nine on Friday (at 2:02 PM, to be exact), but her daddy had to fly out of town for the weekend after a quick birthday breakfast and opening of presents.  To cheer her up, we added flowers to her list of birthday presents (as the only girl in a house full of boys, I believe she needs all the flowers she can get), but the birthday cake had to await her father's return.

We made the cake together on Sunday afternoon.  She requested a strawberry cake (Katydid loves fruit of all kinds), along the lines of the one her Grandma Carol (Andy's mom) makes.  We decided to use what we had on hand and make one from scratch.  Googling "strawberry cake" brought us this recipe, which we further altered by leaving out the Jello.  (The only thing the Jello is for, really, is to make the cake bright pink.  It also makes it a little sweeter, but the cake is still quite sweet without it.) We frosted the cake with some simple homemade vanilla icing.

Nine candles.  Somehow it seems that she ought to still be the baby who used to scoot through the drawings of sidewalk chalk, leaving rainbows in her wake.

Here is our recipe for "Katydid's Strawberry Heaven Cake", which would make an excellent dessert for a May or June tea, when strawberries are in season.

2 cups sugar

1 cup butter, softened

4 eggs (room temperature)

2 3/4 cups flour

2 1/2 teaspoons baking powder

1 cup whole milk

1 tablespoon vanilla extract

1 cup (more or less) sweetened strawberry puree

1. Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.  We made our cake in 2 round cake pans, but found that the cake was so moist and dense that one of the layers stuck to its plate as it cooled.  I'd recommend greasing and flouring a 13x9 pan instead, especially if you're not making a birthday cake.
2. Cream together the butter and sugar. Beat in eggs one at a time, mixing well after each. Combine the flour and baking powder; stir into the batter alternately with the milk. Blend in vanilla and strawberry puree.
3. Bake for 25-30 minutes, or until a knife inserted in the center comes out clean.

(Vanilla Frosting: Beat together 1 lb of powdered sugar with 1 stick of butter.  Add milk in dribs and drabs -- I always make it too runny -- until you reach the desired consistency.  Then add a splash of vanilla.  You can also add more strawberry puree to the frosting, which will make it a pretty pink color as well as adding more strawberry flavor, but I have at least one child who professes not to like strawberries, so we did without.  He ate a very large piece of this cake, incidentally.)

Farmerboy Turns Five!

Five years ago at 7:13 PM my doctor and I were discussing options.  I was in the process of being induced at 37 weeks or so, and things were not progressing as hoped.  Since I was being induced because of fetal distress, we were just about to conclude that a C-section was called for.  And at 9:22 PM on April 22, Farmerboy made it into the world.  After a few nerve-wracking days in the NICU, he perked up and we were able to bring him home when I went home. 

This year he wanted a plain chocolate cake with vanilla frosting, and he wanted to help frost it himself.  He graciously allowed his older brother and sister to help:

 

He got a tool kit for his birthday this year, which he wanted, and also, those cool safety goggles perched on top of his head in the first picture.

He made sure he wore them to blow out the candles.

Christmas, the (almost) wordless version

Christmas at our house:

It started with this on Christmas Eve...

Christmas Eve afternoon...

The kids traded their presents to each other...

Christmas morning...

   

   

And ended with this on Christmas night...

Eggnog Custard Pie  (minus the brandy) with homemade maple-syrup whipped cream.

Thanksgiving at Home

Here and gone, in a blur.

 

Happy Birthday... Toddlers?

Pip...

and Pop are two!

I have no idea what to call them anymore.  They aren't babies.  I don't want to call them "the twins".  If I say, "Boys!", most of my kids will come running. 

They're growing up.  Two years ago I could not imagine a day when they would be rocketing down slides and running around in the garden with plastic hockey sticks.  But here they are, making our lives fuller day by day.

So -- happy birthday, Pip and Pop!

(Gareth is providing a little birthday assistance in this picture.  And also wearing one of the birthday presents.  Argh, matey!)

Time

7:50 AM this morning... I am awakened by a loud thumping.  What are my kids doing? I wonder.  Then it occurs to me: it's the roof.  We have two men with nail guns on our roof -- in the rain -- nailing down shingles.  I can't believe they're working in the rain.  After I nurse the baby, I stumble groggily into the kitchen, where everyone else is awake.  I get my breakfast and sit at the computer for a few minutes.  I realize what day it is.  I check on the calendar just to make sure.

It's been six years.  I didn't think 9/11 would ever seem like just another day.  But this morning, it did. 

Katydid's First Holy Communion

In spite of my nervousness yesterday,  Katydid's First Communion turned out beautifully.  Father prayed for her especially during Mass (she was the only one making her First Communion yesterday) and as the congregation sang "Hail Holy Queen" at the end of Mass, he brought her over to the statue of the Blessed Mother and consecrated her to Mary.

I feel at this point that I should say something about how perfect this was for a little girl who is determined to grow up to be a Saint.  But everything I can think of sounds cliched.  And so I would just rather post some photos.  But I'm having trouble with iPhoto this morning, and I can't post all the photos I want to.  But that's the way it goes, doesn't it?  Katydid left her scapular in the bathroom yesterday when she was changing out of her white dress so we could eat lunch.  We didn't discover the missing scapular until the church was already locked.  Andy and I tried to reassure her, but she was very upset.  Nothing ever turns out "perfectly", but life is often beautiful all the same.

The photos we took outside in the sun in the small Mary garden tell the real story.  Yesterday was Katydid's day, one she had been waiting on for a long time.

I'm a little nervous...

Katydid will make her First Holy Communion at the 12:10 Mass today.  She has been ready and waiting for this day for a long time.  Everyone agreed that the Feast of the Assumption would make a beautiful day for a little girl's First Communion.

At first I was worried that I would go into labor and miss today.  (I'm a little over 37 weeks right now.)  Now that today is here, what am I worried about?

I'm worried I won't be able to get all the kids in the car in time, and that we'll be late and won't get a seat.

I'm worried that it's going to storm.

But do you know what I'm worried about most of all?

It's that white dress.

Somebody's mother has a lot to learn about faith.

Happy Birthday, Mommy!

I admit it; I turned 35 on Friday.  My youngest sister asked me if I felt old.   While I was talking to her on the phone, I was waddling around the deck, 32 weeks pregnant, chasing a pair of 21 month old blondies who were, I'm certain, engaging in their usual death-defying stunts.  (I just can't remember what they are now.)  Did I feel old?

Is it possible to feel old when you're 32 weeks pregnant and trying to keep up with twin toddlers?

Sometimes, I'm sure, people feel "sorry" for me -- since I obviously do "have my hands full"!  (This has been repeated to us so many times that my four year old was walking around the house the other day saying, "You've sure got your hands full!")  But sometimes I try to imagine what life would be like if we had chosen to have only our two oldest children.  I would now be the mother of a 10 year old and an 8 year old.  I would be able sometimes to take time off at some place other than the grocery store or the doctor's office.  I would not spend large portions of my day wrestling small people to sleep. 

Or reading Goodnight, Moon.  Or tickling little bellies.  Or talking about "tees" (trees), "tactors", and "tucks". 

My life would be so much poorer.  And, almost at the halfway point of my children's years at home, I would feel old.

So thanks, guys.  This year my best present was just the fact that you are here.