Food stylist dynamo, Oreos

Are you familiar with Denise Vivaldo, a renowned food stylist in LA who also writes for the Huff Post and is an absolute dynamo? I hadn't heard of her until Friday afternoon when she lit up a panel at the MidAtlantic Food Writers Symposium. Later that night, in reviewing the next day's schedule, I was thrilled to see that she would be co-leading the Perfect Plates seminar, a three-and-a-half hour food styling and photography session.

People, Denise is one of the most charismatic, hilarious forces of nature I've ever met. I about fell out after every sentence. I would give an arm to have recorded her presentation, simply to belly-ache laugh again and again. There was something about the importance of lighting in relation to "just thinking about Barbra Streisand," some priceless commentary about Sandra Lee and a Kwanzaa cake, another bit about something being as elusive as seeing a panther in the wild during the day. I loved Denise's candor, her confidence, her strength and her seemingly complete awareness about her strengths -and playing on them- and her weaknesses. I really admire the sense of her I got. What a tough and cool cookie.

She offered a wealth of great advice and Adam Ewing, the photographer who co-taught the session, was a real talent as well. Made me want to go buy a couple new lenses, a buffet of fabulous props and get busy!

`````````` On another note, as Jack doesn't like most cake or any frosting, he asked for a huge Oreo for his birthday. I ordered the Nordic Ware creme filled wafer cake pans, but we worried that they wouldn't make thin or crunchy enough wafers. I'll return those and in the meantime started testing recipes. Today's maiden voyage was my take on a recipe I found on Momables. These were really tasty though Oreos they were not. Ol, T and I totally enjoyed them, but J said "No," probably because the filling wasn't firm or fake enough. Heh. So, I'll keep chugging along, but for now, eye candy for you!

The luxury of time

When the first of two alarms gently nudged me awake this morning, I took a moment to orient. Do you have any idea how long it's been since I've set an alarm clock? Hell, I don't even have one on my night table at home because I have two in the bedrooms next to mine; they are named Jack and Oliver. So to be awakened by a briiing into which I opted and to then have a leisurely amount of time to style my hair and get dressed thoughtfully to then have time to go out for breakfast and coffee before heading into the Library of Virginia to use my entire, or least what felt entire, brain for uninterrupted learning has felt like a dip in the lap of luxury. Let me simply say that I am happy to be here.

The day consisted of panel discussions about what editors want to see, how the best-written recipes are structured, ways in which we can all better manage social media and a tiny master class I registered for before it filled. I feel tired in a much different way that I usually do this time of day. Yes, the boys did just call me to mediate a situation from afar, but that was brief and distant. I'm tired in the way one is after focusing and contemplating and learning and networking, and that feels really good. And, I'm still a little bit high about the master class instructor, Todd Kliman (dining editor of The Washingtonian), saying about a couple sentences from my piece, "Damn that's good. Beautiful."

I think many stay-at-home parents desire and benefit from experiences like these, times where we take time and space for ourselves. When I hugged the boys goodbye yesterday afternoon, we all felt sad, and they asked why I was leaving. I said, "Sweeties, everyone deserves the opportunity to follow through on their passions, to take some time for themselves, learn something new, meet new people. I will miss you but I'm really excited about this chance, and it will be good for me."

As important as maintaining a sense of self distinct from Mom is modeling that for my children. I want them to see a woman who is a great mother, one who is loving and engaged and there for them every step of the way but who also prioritizes and takes care of herself. I want them to see that their father is fully on board with that, happy to support me and to make my short absence work. I want the boys to expect that their spouses will want to and should be supported in doing the same (if they so choose) and to know that pursuing education and personal fulfillment can be lifelong ventures that enrich them every step of the way.

Richmond, biz

People, today felt like four. Ol crawled into our bed at 5:37am, eager for morning snuggle and to chat. I tried to hush him until 6, but as you can imagine, it didn't work terribly well. What a cute little bug he is. Good thing, too! My post-drop off morning commenced with a couple hours at the orthopedist because of nearly two months of a very sore tailbone. I'd nearly convinced my generally-NOT-hypochondriac self that something dreadful was eating away at my coccyx, so eagerly assented to X-rays to prove otherwise. This was all well and good until, during the sit down with the kindly doc who I'd not met before this morning, I asked "What is THAT?" as I scanned one of the images. It was a rather large dark spot and just didn't look right. Immediately, doc replied "kaka," and I literally felt as if I'd die of mortification. Not least because he used the word "kaka." In later relaying this story to one of my best friends, her primary take-away was "Your doctor said KAKA???!!!"

Exactly. I've just recently stopped wincing. Though I am now the "proud" owner of a Tush Cush. Jesus.

I then made more jam, ran errands, packed, cleaned, left little Pokemon-themed surprises and love notes for all my boys (well, no Pokemon for T, and doesn't he love me more for that!) and hauled it out of the house when the sitter arrived in a vain attempt to beat rush hour traffic on 95S. I did not remotely beat it, but still, I like a good road trip so turned on a fabulous playlist and went for it. It is a vastly different experience to be alone in the car and stuck in traffic than with young children in the car while stuck in traffic. No complaints!

Just before 8, I pulled up at The Black Sheep, happy to have waited out the trip for a good dinner as my reward at the end. I ordered green goddess potato salad, the same arugula/fennel/spiced pecan/hibiscus dressing salad I got two weeks ago, a glass of white wine and later, rum-spiked banana pudding with lady fingers. Solid, friends. Extremely solid.

I used to die over the mere thought of eating at a restaurant alone. I cringed for the solo diners I saw, certain they were terribly lonely and there alone only as a last resort so as to avoid another bowl of instant Ramen in their studio apartments. I see now the complete folly in my assumptions because in fact, dining alone needn't be lonely or dreary in the least. It can be extraordinarily lovely in the quiet calm that is time with one's self. And a good magazine makes things all the better. I myself brought along a crossword puzzle in eager anticipation of no one attempting to fill in slots while I wasn't looking. Hah!

One of the clues was: malarkey. Isn't that a wonderful word?!

I'm off to bed, eager for a full day o' symposiuming tomorrow!