Long darn day, beautiful cakes

This has been a hell of a long day, friends. Thus my MIAness until now. Have I ever mentioned that my boys talk constantly, unceasingly, repetitively, in imaginary languages, loudly, and all the time? Sweet lord- my head spins with over-stimulation. I actually teared up when Tom left earlier; we're both so tired, and I envied his cross-country flight (and I HATE to fly) because he'd be quiet, still and by himself. Meanwhile, I have been ON. We went to Sur la Table, not an optimal spot for small children but I was hell-bent on getting a few things, and we did manage to find three perfect cookie cutters: a cowboy hat, a cowboy boot with spur and a ghost. I got a new tea ball as mine mysteriously broke the other day (I definitely blame the children) as well as some new Bake Even strips which velcro around your cake pans and insulate them to ensure a more even bake. I like the way they look!

Then we went to Whole Foods for dinner because when the boys see a salad bar they are usually struck with a passion for veggies galore. It worked. They chowed on BBQ, veggies, fruits and a smoothie, I did not have to cook for them, we were out of the house, and I found a round -spy!- booth tucked away in the back 40 of the eating area. Perfect!

After returning home, I made these beautiful strawberry cakes. Truly, this is a perfect cake. It is just insanely good and SO pretty. They're almost done cooking, but here you can see the color of the batter as well as the Bake Even strips in action.

It's almost bathtime. I think I can, I think I can...

Pumpkin ravs and tea sandwiches, my cowboys

Ooh, what a fun evening. In fact, what a fun day. I cannot believe that I've been up since 4:58am- when you don't sleep, there is so much you can do in a day. I'm not advocating this not sleeping thing but you can pack a lot in. I roasted beets, gardened, briefly napped, took and picked up both boys to/from great days at school, took Jack on a brief date, took a run, went to the market, made and devoured these sage-brown butter pumpkin ravioli, made and enjoyed parts of four tea sandwiches, watched as both boys squealed -literally- with glee as they opened the gift package their Louisiana grandparents sent; it was full of cowboy gear- a shirt and boots for Jack, and a hat for Oliver. Adorable.

Tea sandwiches I've made so far are: roast chicken/cheddar/apple chile chutney on white; goat cheese/fig spread/marcona almonds on three grain rye; cucumber/watercress/mayo on white; radish/butter/mint on three grain rye. Delish!

Frustration abounds on a dark Friday morning

I talk somewhat regularly about the many challenges of parenting: it's mind-blowingly constant, can be mind-numbingly dull, is exhausting, asks you to shed or force into dormancy much of your pre-parent self. But the one thing I'm not sure I've written much about is that no matter how certain you are that you've finally established a routine, finally gotten everyone well, finally figured out how to best deal with whatever issue has been at hand, that is never really true. It can be easy (or just too damn appealing) to forget that children grow and change at a rapid, dynamic pace. Sometimes that's exciting, at other times it makes you want to put a fork in your eye. It's like an existential version of "are you kidding that you outgrew these pants/shoes/whatever? we just bought them."

Last night, I was up late getting things done: laundry folded, recipes posted, recipes sorted, dishes washed, emails returned, articles read. I felt comfortable doing so because I "knew" I could count on being able to sleep until at least 5:48a which is Oliver's most regular wake-up time (horrible but, shockingly, a great improvement). Bam. Just before 5am, I am jolted from my slumber by ear-splitting calls of MOM-MAY, MOM-MAY. He was sopping wet, his bed was sopping wet, he wanted milk, he wanted to play, he wanted pancakes but then not. I forced him to come to bed with me where we fitfully coexisted until 6:15. Why is it fun to crawl on top of Mommy's face? And lest you think T is a lazy sack, no, he's out of town.

Anyway, my point is that I was counting on something so small as a certain number of hours of sleep. I didn't quite get there, I feel pretty rough but the same day will unfold and you make do.

Making do is hard after a while. It's tough to always just "go with it" even if you're a masterful Buddhist monk. O is on the crabby side of crab, and that's putting it kindly, J is being a complete doll and I feel badly that I don't have the energy to engage in a full-on game of Twister right now. But we all have limits, and sometimes when what you expected did not come to pass, the bar might lower on what those limits are. And I think that's ok.