-
Let Them Eat Cake
08.24.09 | Permalink | | Comments Off on Let Them Eat Cake
I admire the way that children eat. They have not yet learned how to eat things like cake without letting their reactions show on their faces. For us, it is an exercise in restraint. We eat a small amount of cheesecake with the full knowledge of the fat and calories, as well workout ahead that it will take to burn off that tiny bit of dessert.  For them, there is no such knowledge, and I’m not sure they’d care if they knew. There is no napkin or fork necessary. They forgo the daintiness and delicate nature with which adults eat cake. We eat as though it is a chore while they eat with relish. We have proper and courteous conversations while eating cake, while children pretty much ignore everything around them when confronted with such a sweet confection.
Pure joy on Sage’s face as he thinks of eating his cake. The children around him look on and sing to him with sweet anticipation of knowing what is next.
The privilege of the first bite. Everyone waits for the birthday child to take a bite before they can all dig in. Waiting for that bite to take place can seem like an eternity as the children devour the cake with their eyes…. waiting…
Finally, that sweet first taste! Frosting and cake crumbs make their way onto some sweet cheeks as she glories in the beauty of a chocolate cupcake with green sugar frosting. Heaven.
Bites are not delicate, rather something one takes on with one’s whole face as one enjoys the cupcake with the entirety of one’s being. The bigger the bite, the more sweetness will take over the senses and fill the mouth with the lovely flavors of sugar, butter and chocolate.
Sometimes it is easier to forgoe even the hands and just sticks one’s face right into the cupcake. He skips the cake, licks off every bit of frosting and moves onto other things leaving a bald cupcake behind feeling very content and satisfied. Not a trouble in the world!
-
Sage is Seven
I watched this boy come into the world. Seriously, I watched as the crown of his head was pushed out of his mama, my dear friend Michelle, and into loving arms. I watched as he took his first breath and shook his fists. I watched as he received his first nourishing sips from Michelle and took his first look at the world. It was one of my top five most breathtaking things I have ever seen. And I have traveled.
Sage has changed a bit from the days of nursing and cooing. This is how he looks these days. He is seven now.
Last week we headed to Bellingham to celebrate the seventh year of Mr. Sage. Something that we all look forward to at Sage’s birthday parties is the donut game. As is his birthday tradition, Sage included the donut game at his seventh birthday party. The game goes like this:
1. Tie donuts to a string and tie them to a clothesline. Have your guests each choose a donut to stand by. Instruct the guests to put their hands behind their backs because they can’t TOUCH the donut!
2. Remind guests that this is a serious affair. No funny business, here, even if you ARE dressed as Ariel at a 7-year-old’s birthday party. Strength, perseverance and assertiveness are required to succeed at this game!
3. Allow the guests to take one LICK of their donut.
4. Get into the starting position!
5. GO!
And here is where the children turn into donut loving, sugar grubbing, pastry chowing fiends.
It is so fun to watch their excitement at getting to eat a donut like a barbarian: no utensils, napkins, or hands. Just the kid, the donut and a sharp pair of chompers.
When that last morsel is nibbled away from the string, nothing remains except a few crumbs, sweet sugar dusted faces, and satisfied smiles.
Until next year, powdered sugar donut!
*The featured players: Gigi, Jude, Sage & his little sister Luna
-
Papaya
08.22.09 | Permalink | | Comments Off on PapayaPapayas have always looked interesting to me. Those black seeds, do you eat them? That salmon colored flesh looks so sweet and succulent. Do they taste like mangos?  So the other day when I saw them on sale at our favorite vegetable market, I thought I’d give the papaya a day in court. I’d answer the question for once and for all! Do I like papaya?
I cut the papaya open. The fruit gave way like butter, a good sign. There it was, salmon flesh, seeds and all. I took pictures before I tasted it as I didn’t want to bias my photography. Once I had my documentation I went for it. First, the seeds did not seem edible to me. They were hard in the middle with a soft outside, like the membrane that lines an egg. I would not be putting that into my mouth, thank you very much. I scraped them into the trash can and moved onto the rest of the investigation. I smelled it. It smelled like… nothing. Absolutely nothing. That was not a good sign. Smell and taste are intimately tied, how could something without smell taste good? However, limberger cheese smells of socks but tastes good, so I was still game. Then came my first ever, and probably LAST ever taste of papaya. I can’t even describe the taste, something like melon meets warm garbage perhaps?  I rarely spit things out, but I assure you that I spit that little bit of disgusting right into the trash can.   Then I dumped the rest of that vile fruit into the garbage along with the seeds and my masticted bite. Yuck. The answer is definitely: I DO NOT like papaya!
-
Vanastics
08.22.09 | Permalink | | Comments Off on VanasticsHer:  Hey, remember when I used to say ‘gymnastics’? When I was little?
Us: What do you say now, instead?
Her: Vanastics. Isn’t that funny how I used to talk?
Us: Yeah, gymnastics sounds pretty funny! How do you say it right again?
Her: Vanastics. Va-Nas-Tics. Vanastics.
Us: Va-Nas-Tics. Right. Thanks, little girl. Love you.
(She had it right, but we are clinging to that baby talk…)
-
Tooth-less-ness
08.21.09 | Permalink | | Comments Off on Tooth-less-nessOn August 14th, my little girl grew up a little bit. That first baby tooth that we celebrated upon its arrival at around nine months took its final bite, made its final smile and exited her jaw. The last time she took a picture with that sweet little milk tooth in her jaw is right here.
She was terribly anxious about the loss of the tooth. Would it bleed a lot? Would it hurt when it came out?   Why does the Tooth Fairy have to take the tooth? Can we keep the tooth instead? Will she still pay?
It took three days of conversations and questions. During a brave moment while at a dinner party with her friend Sophie, Gigi summoned up all her courage and asked me to pull the tooth. “Are you sure?” I asked her. She nodded her head with tears in her eyes and sat on the stool. Sophie watched from the background as I took a paper towel and grabbed her tooth. It took three tugs, and there in my hand was that perfect little baby tooth.
Gigi and Sophie celebrated with a picture. Sophie took part ownership of Gigi’s tooth loss and tried to speed up her own tooth losing process by aggressively tugging on her bottom teeth.
Gigi relaxed for the first time in three days. She finally had the answers to the questions she had been asking for days. She told me it didn’t even hurt! It bled very little, and that night, the tooth fairy left her tooth behind with five dollars and a book about fairies. A pretty fair trade!
