Breathe

With all this new “free time” on my hands, it seems I should have plenty of opportunities these days to post something…anything… preferably not something to remind us all of the crisis and chaos going on all around us. I don’t do heavy and serious, friends, and I know you know that if you’ve been around here for any time at all.

Sadly, friends, the crisis is at our forefront. It’s a tightness in my chest that I feel from the moment I wake up in the morning…hell, last night it hovered as I slept… as I watch my husband shower and dress to leave for work. Outside our home. In a hospital. Until he finally walks through our door at night, looking exhausted and defeated. It’s then that I can breathe again, for the next 14 hours or so (on a good day), until we get up and do it all over again.

I see so many shout-outs and acknowledgements for our doctors and nurses. They, in addition to first responders and truckers and teachers and farmers and all others who are working tirelessly and without complaint to keep things running and to keep us all as safe and comfortable and educated as possible, deserve all of our respect and gratitude at this time.

Do you know who ISN’T getting thanks and recognition? Our IT professionals.

My boys have had the good fortune of being entertained endlessly this week. We’ve attended a drawing class conducted by Elephant and Piggie author Mo Willems. We’ve had storytime with Pete the Cat author James Dean. We had music class with our favorite local musician Lori Burke. We watched a multilingual cooking lesson live from the kitchen of one of my favorites, Michael Buble. We have access to Facebook live videos from zoos all over the country. We have a wealth of knowledge at our fingertips, made possible by our educators- both on a local level and nationally. We can Facetime with friends and family to keep in contact. My boys have not had time to be bored this week, because so many amazing folks have stepped up to help out.

Guess who makes all that happen, folks? Technology professionals.

And while some could possibly, maybe do their jobs from home, many of them- particularly those in the healthcare field- don’t have that option. They have to be on-site to be sure the emergency plans are in place. To be sure the systems they have can handle an influx of patients. To be sure those doctors and nurses have the technology at hand to do their jobs efficiently and accurately. To step in and do whatever job needs to be done.

While the word “isolation” is such a huge part of our vocabulary right now, and while we all respect the six-foot rule, it’s not lost on me that most of us are not really all that isolated. I spoke with four different neighbors yesterday- from a distance of greater than six feet. We Facetimed with my sister and my nephew, who’s with her and my mom while his parents are both still working. We had virtual access to normally quiet and isolated authors who are coming forth to help us keep our littles entertained. So that for a little while, while I keep going about my normal, everyday routine with half of my heart missing and trying not to let our boys know how hard it is to breathe, I can focus on the mundane tasks of keeping up with the state of my home with all three boys here.

We are attempting educational work while we’re home, as much as possible. I know it’s been advised that we just spend time together, have family time, and have fun…and we are. We’re digging out science projects that we’ve been too busy to do before. We’re playing math games, writing silly stories, blowing up vinegar and baking soda laden with bright colors and glitter (y’all know how much I detest glitter, no?). Not because it’s really necessary, but because it’s a schedule, a routine, a constant in a very inconsistent world. My boys have figured out, by the end of week one, what’s expected of them and what they can expect of me. And they look forward to it. They’re getting to use our home computers for the first time to access educational sites. They look forward to a science experiment or two each day. The structure is working well for us, for our family. Not that every day is easy. I still have three boys stuck at home, in one house. But we’re making it work, as everyone is.

I love the reminders to check in with the elderly. I love that school districts are supplying to-go meals for families who are in a tougher-than-normal financial position right now. I love that I’ve had offers from friends, family, and neighbors to get what we might need from the store while I’ve been home this week with sick twins by myself. This morning, the best social media post I saw was a reminder to breathe in and breathe out. It literally brought me to tears. It was exactly what I needed. I love that, because of social media, we have an entire support system at our fingertips. To lift each other up, to make each other laugh, to push each other forward. All thanks to the technology professionals who have made it possible.

I want to believe that this crisis will bring us as a people closer together. I want to believe that the pooling of resources, the thinking of those less fortunate than ourselves will not end when the bans are lifted and we go back to our post-crisis lives. I want to believe that more people than not understand that right now, we all have the chance to take care of one another simply by taking care of ourselves and our own families.

And I’m begging you, friends. Please, take care of yourself and your own families. For me, for Ryan, for our boys. PLEASE. Take care of you and yours so you can take care of your neighbor and so that my husband can come home to us, and I can breathe again.

Stay safe, my friends.

xoxo,

~d

The Mom Reel

So many people say to me, “those boys must really keep you on your toes,” and “I bet your house is always busy,” and “you sure have your hands full!”

All true. My toes are fine (albeit, not very pretty; they’re not even currently polished); my house is a constant flurry of noise and little voices and tripping over Legos, Matchbox cars, and Transformers); and my hands are undoubtedly full…but my heart is so much fuller.

I often share snippets of our conversations on my Facebook page, purely out of a genuine desire to share some of the joy and laughter these boys bring to our lives…ok, and maybe a little bit because I love when these little conversations pop up in my “memories,” and I can look back and remember some of their best antics. My good friend Angela keeps a “laugh book:” a journal where she writes her favorite conversations with her three boys and the funniest things they say which I think is a brilliant idea.

This week, I’ve been just a little bit behind, and haven’t taken the time to share the highlight conversations and antics that have brightened my week. And I’m not sure what the weather is like where you are, but today is a wet, dreary Friday here. We’re having rain that’s melting the snow, and it’s just pretty depressing. For that reason ,I thought I’d share some sunshine with you.

This week, the twins went back to preschool after Christmas break. It was a fairly easy transition for them; they were ready to return to school, with their friends and their teachers and their routine…and they may have even been ready for a bit of distance from their mama. We had a nice break together, but they had been with me almost 24/7 for about 3 weeks, and I’m not sure if you know this or not, but…I can be a lot to take sometimes (that was sarcasm, for those of you who aren’t fluent). Anyway, their days at school are short- only two and a half hours- but they look forward to their time there immensely. Which is why I was a little surprised on Wednesday when I picked them up to have the littler twin singing me an Ed Sheeran song on our way home. The specific lyrics he highlighted in this serenade were, “I can’t wait to go home. AND I’M ON MY WAY!” While he’s definitely our musical child, and it’s not uncommon for him to spout random lyrics throughout the day, I can’t help but assume there was some significance to his choice on that particular day.

Last night after dinner, the twins were working on flash cards they’d brought home from school with letters of the alphabet printed on them. They need to be able to identify the letters in the box, and we were quizzing them. When the letter “W” came up, their big brother chimed in to “help,” prompting them by repeating the “wa, wa, wa” sound. Then, he continued with, “wa, wa…WAYFAIR!” And so, on that note, my parenting work here is done.

Hope your week ends on a high note, friends!

Cheers,

xoxo,

~d

I Can’t Quit You, Summer!

I’m not sure how it happened, but summer is drawing to a close. This topic is probably worn out by now, and I’m pretty sure I lament the close of warm weather days every year, but despite its inevitability, the sting is always the same.

The back-to-school displays are getting cleared out, fall decor has debuted, and the temperatures here have dropped about 15 degrees in three days.

Today is the final official day of summer vacation for our Big Kid. Since this summer disappeared all too quickly, between poor weather and a list of daily obligations that seemed never ending, it feels kind of like our summer never really started.

Sure, we squeezed in as much fun and as many memories as we could: days at the beach, afternoons in the pool, play dates with friends, a couple of trips to the movies, bike rides (and teaching the twins to ride without training wheels), walks, blueberry picking, and lots of weekends at the go kart track. We ate on the deck; we had a full week- albeit a busy one- with my sister while she attended a summer class at the college nearby; and we went out for ice cream. And still, it flew by in a blink, and here we are, staring at the beginning of another school year.

Today we celebrated the last day of summer break filling our summer to-do list leftovers. My boy had requested that he and I take one day to scout antiques and go out to lunch. Since I’m a procrastinator by nature and always wait for the “perfect” day (which probably stared me in the face a dozen times without my realizing it), we got to the very final day of summer vacation before I obliged. So this morning, we made a date to meet his beloved kindergarten teacher for lunch (where he insisted on buying iced coffee for both me and Ms. K), followed by a stop to visit one antiques dealer by the side of the road, and one stop to a local antiques restoration shop, where he found and purchased a book on war planes. When we got home, he braved the chilly waters of the pool to get in one final swim (though I’m sure he’ll be in a few more times before we close it, he wanted to be absolutely certain he squeezed in every ounce of fun he could.)

This summer was a hectic one, and my kids were mostly patient with me, and the rest of the time, they were kids just doing what kids do. It wasn’t always easy, and there were days I couldn’t wait for the day to come when I could send them back to school, but now that it’s really over, what I really want is a few more weeks to soak this all in. Because when this time rolls around again next year, I’ll be sending all three.

Stay tuned, friends. I’m considering a follow-up to this post where we’ll discuss all of the things I learned this summer. It could be quite a list!

Cheers to a successful new school year!

xoxo,

~d

Things left unsaid

My second grade teacher nicknamed me “Chatterbox.” I’m sure I don’t need to explain that one. Some things, apparently, never change.

However, despite my ability to move my mouth constantly and chatter incessantly about very little of consequence, I find it hard to say the important words out loud.

We’re driving back north after a weekend with our families. We spent time at the races, met a brand-spanking-new nephew, loved on our other nieces and nephew, met another- less new but still very tiny- cousin, and had an afternoon of farm exploring. We talked, we laughed, we enjoyed two full consecutive days of warmth and sunshine. It was a wonderful, fulfilling weekend. All three boys- and the dog- are snoring in the backseat.

Yet somehow I’m finding myself shooting off text after text on our way home to say all the things I didn’t say while we were there. The “I forgot to mention…” or “I never asked you about…” or, “here’s a story I wanted to tell you but didn’t get the chance,” peppered with the occasional, “Oh, crap, I think we left…(insert someone’s unaccounted for personal item) at your house.”

Two weeks later, on our drive home, I’m reflecting on all of this, plus another weekend of running into old friends and classmates I haven’t seen in, erm, well over a decade (closer to two, actually, but let’s not dwell on that) and how Bon Jovi himself once said “who says you can’t go home?” And, well, who can argue with Bon Jovi?

Ryan has teased me in the past about my ability to spend all weekend at home and continue chatting with my mom for the whole two hour drive home. He’s not wrong. In fact, often our conversation flows from the weekend for weeks without pause- at any time of day or night. (As evidenced by the fact that we were still exchanging texts last night well after midnight.)

I guess absence makes the heart grow fonder and actual physical connection fortifies bonds that phone calls and text messages can’t touch. It’s such a gift- particularly as a parent- to be able to be able to keep in contact via text,(I don’t know how my mom carried on telephone conversations when we were kids if I was anything like my kids are. See chatterbox, above. I can barely call to make a dentist appointment, never mind catching up with far-away family) but you just can’t replace the gift of being in the same room as those you love. That leaves the opportunity to convey everything one may want to say, without having the actual conversation. “Miles don’t matter. This moment is important. I love you. I’m here.”

But then…

some things are better left unsaid.

xoxo,

~d

Reason #408 why motherhood just may kill me

Wanna know how I spent the twins’ naptime today?

Putting clean sheets on the boys’ beds.

Seriously, the whole hour was consumed by putting sheets on three beds: twin bunks and a full size bed.  AN HOUR, friends.  Well, 50 minutes.  To put sheets on three beds.  The actual breakdown is probably closer to 45 minutes for the bunk beds, 5 minutes for the other one.  Still, there were a lot of other things I could’ve accomplished in that time.

Ever consider where bunk beds came from?  I have.  I’ve also pondered his painful demise.  Yes.  His.  Because it was certainly a man who invented those blasted things, knowing full well it’d be woman who would be changing the sheets the majority of the time.

We’ve had bunk beds in our house for almost a year, but we just stacked them two weeks ago.  I’ve changed the sheets three times now.  Every time I’ve damn near died.  The first time was a near concussion, lifting my head too fast while trying to raise the mattress to tuck the sheets.  The second time was the same day, when I came one step closer to a concussion by bashing my head off the ceiling while repeating the same process on the top bunk.  (Yes, I’m aware of the definition of insanity.)  The third time my socked foot slipped on the ladder while I was trying to smooth the wrinkles from the sheets and blankets and return all of the fuzzy friends to their happy home in the bed.

Repeat every week until the end of time.

To be fair, I totally get the functionality of bunk beds.  I’ve toured a few war ships in my day; I get that sometimes function and practicality has to be a priority.  We have three boys; space in our home needs to be used wisely as well.  Aesthetic be damned, I guess.  And, it’s a fun hideaway for all three; they’ll be entertained for hours, climbing up the ladder and hiding in the top bunk.  So, it’s kind of a no-brainer and a necessary evil.

We kept their beds separate and both close to the floor for as long as we could, until they started asking us weekly how long until we could bunk them.  It made sense to stack their beds; they’re getting bigger and they’re playing in their room more and more, and they need the floor space.  And they’re doing really well with the change.  Clearly, changing sheets has no effect on their perception of the intricacies of making a bed without headroom.  What do they know?  They’re three feet tall.

Just make sure my tombstone reads, “it was those damned bunk beds.”

 

xoxo,

~d

Que Sera, Sera

I love the saying, “Que sera, sera.”

While I’m a very firm believer that we’re all responsible for our own destiny, I believe even more firmly in divine intervention and a higher plan, a deeper meaning, and a purpose beyond the greatest limits of our imagination.  I think we should work hard toward our goals to make our own dreams come true.  I also believe that some circumstances are beyond our control and we have to know when to take a step back to see the bigger picture.

I went to college to learn to be an interior designer.  My family thought I should be a teacher, or possibly a writer, but my heart was set on design.  I finished college right before the recession of 2008 and jobs became hard to find- particularly jobs in a luxury service industry like interior design.  I had put all of my “eggs” in the basket of my internship with the VA hospital, an organization whose mission had solidified my belief that I’d found my highest purpose: using my passion to positively impact the healthcare experience of our nation’s heroes.  It was my dream job; I found my home with my mentors and coworkers within the hospital.  The additional perks were that it was a government position, with decent pay, lots of paid holidays, and a very decent retirement plan.

Alas, it was not meant to be, as a permanent position was not approved for me before the end of my internship, and the intern who came after me took the position.  By that time, I’d moved on to searching for my “place” elsewhere, in the midst of an economic downturn, and ended up leaving my dream behind in favor of any position that offered a paycheck.  I tried my hand in sales, knowing that my confidence needed the bolstering of clients’ rejection in addition to the extra practice of selling my own ideas.  The experience, while not one of my most pleasant, served the purpose I had intended, and one of my sales jobs actually led- completely unexpectedly-  to a management position, which helped my confidence issues even more.  I didn’t stay there long, though, as that job was only part-time.  My next venture was as an administrative assistant for an insurance company, where I sharpened my organizational skills and learned that I’m actually pretty good at keeping other people organized as well.  I learned a lot from this position, and was there until our field office was closed as a result of new corporate leadership.

At that time, a friend of ours recommended me for another- temporary- sales position with our local newspaper, introducing a trial program.  Knowing me outside of work, she knew my passion for writing, and she recommended me for an intense writing assignment as well.  The sales project failed to take off, however, and after a few months, that position was eliminated.

There is, believe it or not, a point to all of this rambling, and it does relate to the belief that sometimes, “whatever will be, will be.”  My point is, I started college with the goal of becoming an interior designer, then spent ten years after struggling to figure out how I’d make it happen.  After all these years and all the life experiences I’ve tucked into my (expanding) belt, I’ve made it to my 30’s, and just like every other 30-something who’s come before me has promised, I’ve found a confidence in myself to pursue my passion in a way that still allows me to be constantly present for my HIGHEST purpose.  I’m a wife and a mom first, above everything else.  My family depends on my experience in planning  and organization and leading operations to keep track of all of the things that need to be kept track of in a houseful of boys.  That’s my purpose.  And it’s pointed my ambition to create beautiful and functional spaces and to help others like me to do the same.

I’m pursuing interior design again, in a professional capacity.  I’ve been spending the last few weeks and months sharpening my skills in an electronic format.  I’ve learned that there’s a whole new approach to interior design that allows the client to submit their goals and visions for their space to a designer who can envision the space without being face-to-face.  AND, working this way allows me the flexibility to work from my house, while my boys play next to me, with all of us in our PJ’s.  OR, I can work at night when the house is quiet and I’ve fulfilled all of my domestic duties for the day.

One of my first practice projects is my vision for the office where I plan to set up shop, in my home:

 

This “office” is actually a 25 square foot walk-in closet in the room we use as a guest bedroom.  The limited space and the lack of windows for natural light forced colors and shapes that will, I hope, inspire my creativity and help me to be at my greatest problem-solving capacity.

 

I’d love to hear your feedback!  Love it or hate it, tell me!  I’m a seasoned professional at accepting constructive criticism.

 

xoxo,

~d

This Never-Ending Winter and my need for a change of scenery

We here in the northeast are experiencing the winter that won’t end.

It feels like it hasn’t stopped snowing since Halloween.  It feels like we’ve been trapped inside, staring at the same walls day after day, week after week, for half a year.  In a Facebook group I’m a member in, someone from Alaska commented last week that winter here has lasts for too long.  Alaska, people.  Let that sink in for a minute.

We’re trying to stay busy.  We’ve walked and been outside as often as we can, but sick kids and exposure to freezing temps aren’t always the best combo.  We planted seeds for veggie plants a few weeks ago.  The boys have a hockey net in the basement and can use that space to run off some extra energy.  T-ball season has started and we’re beginning to see a day or so a week that is suitable to be outside.  Regardless, we’re all tired of being inside. One day last week, upon returning from our errands, the boys filed out of my car and made a beeline for the driveway where big, fat snowflakes were beautifully, gracefully, tauntingly falling from the sky.  The three of them ran around in circles, arms spread wide, catching the flakes on their tongues.  It was heartwarming and beautiful, and I was so fulfilled to watch them, and yet…I’ll be just as fulfilled when I can sit in the grass and watch them roll up and down the driveway on their bikes, draw pictures on the concrete with sidewalk chalk, build castles and mountains in the sand, and push weeds from my flower beds in their big trucks while I soak up sun and heat.

But that’s just me.

In the meantime, I’ve stayed motivated by changing and reorganizing basically every room in our house in the last month.  I sometimes feel more energized when I rearrange things to change the flow and the way the light hits different aspects of a space.  That, in turn, gives me an idea of what accessory items are working for us and what we could maybe replace.

In our living room, for instance, I  played around with a completely different layout that seems to work really well for us.  What I noticed, though, is that we needed a new, larger area rug to tie the space together.  The rule of thumb for a rug is that it should touch all the pieces of furniture in the space to make it feel cohesive .  The rug we had isn’t big enough to do that; far too much of the floor was bare, which is not only an aesthetic problem, but a traction problem for our 12-year-old golden retriever.  She’s having a hard time getting up from the slippery floors after she’s been lying down.  So last weekend, we trooped into town, the five of us, for a family trip to Dick’s.  And I played the “Oh, but I’m the only girl, and can’t we please, please, PLEASE go to a fun store for me to look for house stuff?” card.  And we left with a rug.

I travel with the paint swatches we used on every wall in our house.  This way,  when I’m out and about, I always have the colors on hand to compare.  So, I pulled the swatches out of my purse in the middle of the store to check, and my three super manly boys and my one super manly man each grabbed a spot of the rug and trooped it to the checkout for me.

Another thing that I’ll be addressing in the living room is the blank wall above the sofa.  I’m currently searching for some artwork to frame and hang to make that more of a focal point.  My problem is deciding on what I want.  Because your space should tell your story, I don’t want something to just “put” there; I want it to be personal, have significance, and to tell a story about our family.  I have family portraits on the wall going up the stairs, so I’d like to do something artistic or inspiring in the living room.  My top ideas right now are to frame some photos of our town or from our travels and have them made into canvases, or blown up for large matted frames.  Because the sofa and curtains are neutral colors, I’d like to bring out the colors of the rug with the art…and then possibly repeat those same colors with some new throw pillows on the sofa and love seat.

I’d love to hear from you; does anyone else get suffocated by their surroundings when the weather keeps you confined in the same spaces?  How do you deal with it?  Are you painting?  Tackling a renovation project?  Replacing furniture or accessories?  Leave me a comment!

 

xoxo,

~d

 

 

Busy

It’s a word that gets thrown around often.  Not just with me; we all use it.  Busy.  We’re ALL busy.  Caps, bold, italics.

“Sorry I never got back to you; I’ve been so busy!”

“How’s your summer?” “Busy!”

Me, personally?  It’s never occurred to me to keep track of how many times a day I say it, hear it, think it.

Any time I take my boys (three of them, all under age five) out in public?  At least one casual observer will offer a grin and a sympathetic “I bet you’re busy!”

When my husband reluctantly asks me to do a favor or take care of something household related because he works pretty crazy hours anymore?  “Babe, I know you’re busy enough already, but if you get a minute during naptime or whatever, could you…?”

When I look at the stack of library books on my nightstand or on the end table in the living room? “Ugh, if I wasn’t so busy, I’d be through those already!”

A lot of my busy-ness is of my own making.  Apparently I took Aesop’s Fables a bit too literally as a child, because every time I ignore work to do something pleasurable, I’m reminded of the Grasshopper and the Ant.  Remember that story?  The ant worked and worked, never taking time off, while the grasshopper, all “Carpe Diem!” played and forgot to prepare for winter.  So when wintertime rolled around, the ant was warm and full, while the grasshopper died a cold, hungry death.

That must be it.  I hate being cold.  And hungry.

So I stay busy.  Not always particularly productive, but definitely busy.  And when I say busy, I pretty much mean in the sense that I start 349587348962 projects and approximately 2 get done.

Take, for instance, this spring.  I found an ant infestation in my spider plant (here we go with the ant theme again). So I carried the plant to our back deck, where I drowned those suckers out, then gave them a nice, healthy dose of old coffee grounds to show them I meant business.  Apparently, ants hate coffee.  So maybe I’m not as much like an ant as I thought.  Anyway… my spider plant.  I didn’t want to bring the ants back inside, so I let my plant sit on the deck for a couple of days.  It was still spring, and we weren’t finished having frost then, so a few leaves on my plant were sacrificed in the effort.  When I pulled them to make room for new growth, I put the dead leaves on top of last summer’s hanging basked from the deck, my Mother’s Day petunia from Ryan and the boys, which I never emptied last fall.

Fast forward to late July.  This past Saturday morning, Ryan took the boys with him to run an errand while I stayed home.  After they left, I wandered back to the deck to pick up yesterday’s swim suits and towels, and decided maybe it’s time to finally clean out that hanging basket.  What I found when I moved those dead spider plant leaves took me by surprise.

 

My point is, yes, I’m busy.  We’re ALL busy.  Caps, bold, italics.  It’s not exclusively a parent thing, or a student thing, or a career thing or a sports thing or a…well, you get it.  Life is hectic, and messy, and crazy, and unpredictable.  And sometimes, under all that busy-ness, there are surprises budding that we aren’t expecting.

And aren’t those the best?

 

xoxox,

~d

 

Cheesecake. (You want a subtitle with that?)

Apparently, my husband talks about me at work.

I know this because he tells me.  And somehow, he manages to mostly tell them only good stuff, as far as I know, which is pretty awesome.  He has repeated conversations to me during the course of which he revealed his understanding of charger plates in dining table setting; another conversation, he told someone who asked about my career that I’m currently a “wonderful stay-at-home mom to our son.”  And most often, it seems, he talks about my recipes.  

In fact, he talks about my recipes so much that he came home with a request last week for my cheesecake recipes.  When I asked which ones he wanted, he replied, “oh, I don’t know…all of them?”  

Let me be clear: I adore cheesecake.  Ok, I adore all desserts, but cheesecake ranks in the top five of my favorite varieties.  And because of my love of cheesecake, I try to bake them myself as often as possible.  My traditional contribution to Thanksgiving with Ryan’s family is a cheesecake, and every year I present a new flavor.  I love to experiment.

The problem is that I’m terrible at them.  They always taste ok.  In fact, most often, they taste pretty darn good.  Just sayin’.  Unfortunately, though, they don’t always come out of the oven looking as amazing as they taste.  I have, in the last seven years, produced only one that didn’t have a crack down the middle.  Of course, that recipe required garnish that covered that amazing accomplishment, but I patted myself heavily on the back for the way it looked coming out of the oven. 

I’ve tried letting them come down to room temperature gradually by turning off the oven heat and letting them inside.  I’ve tried to not overbeat the eggs.  So far, nothing has worked.  However, I just found this website that has some amazing insider tricks, so it may be time to try again.  There’s an Oreo cookie cheesecake in one of my Taste of Home cookbooks that I’ve been dying to attempt.

My first stab at cheesecake actually started with Ryan.  He came home from work one day seven or eight years ago with a recipe printed on a piece of paper and asked if I could make it for him.  At the time, he was not much of a dessert eater, but he said this one sounded particularly appetizing.  We made.  We enjoyed.  Wash, rinse, repeat.  Pumpkin swirl cheesecake is still on our list of favorites.

After I made that one, it sort of turned into a game to see what else I could pull off.  The next Thanksgiving, I brought a red velvet cheesecake to dinner.  This might be one of my personal favorites, because I’m a red velvet fanatic, and this is an incredibly rich and decadent cheesecake.

Having done a fair job with these, Ryan requested a New York-style cheesecake as a random mid-week dessert one summer.  I decided that Mr. Emeril Lagasse was probably a pretty good chef to consult, so we tried New York-style cheesecake with a fruit topping.  If I remember correctly, blackberries and raspberries were in season at the time so I used Emeril’s sauce recipes as a guide to cook the berries down with some liquor and sugar, then poured over the cheesecake slice-by-slice before serving (for those who aren’t huge fans of fruit).   

The following year, we tried caramel-peanut butter swirl cheesecake.  This one has become one of Ryan’s favorites with its combination of sweet and salty flavors.  I make it my own by substituting the store-bought caramel sauce with my homemade salted caramel sauce, then omit the salt called for in the cheesecake recipe.  

Two years ago, we sampled caramel apple brownie cheesecake.  The name is deceiving, because there’s no chocolate in it.  The crust is more “blondie” than “brownie,” but it’s one of those recipes that just sings “fall.”  

Last spring, when entertaining friends of ours, we tried Hershey’s Special Dark truffle brownie cheesecake.  This, my friends, is every bit as sinful as it sounds…and then some.  It may be one of the richest desserts I’ve ever made or tasted but it’s enough to make any bad day go away.  We made it again for New Year’s Eve this year, and it was a pretty big hit.

This past Thanksgiving, I found yet another sweet’n’salty combo to tickle Ryan’s palate: Cinderella cheesecake.  With a (chocolate) brownie crust, then more chocolate, and lots of peanut butter, this one became an instant winner as well.  

I’m excited for my list to grow to include many more of these recipes.  Right now, I’m craving something lighter to break out of comfort food mode.  Maybe a little fruity like berry or lemon…or something completely off-the-wall like lavender- which I’ve never eaten before, but because everything in my head is purple right now, it looks like it would taste like a fresh spring day.

 

Cheers!

xoxo,

~d

 

 

Reasons, Seasons, and Lifetimes

This post keeps offering itself in bits and pieces in my head- has been for about a year now.  And, with the holidays so recently behind us, reflection and the ongoing spirit they bring is apparently still hanging out…sort of like the four Christmas trees I have up in our house and have yet to find the heart to take down.  

We’ve all heard the saying, “people will come into our lives for a reason, a season, or a lifetime.”  Each new phase of our life brings with it acquaintances that will stick, or that will move on, whether it’s because they turned out to not be who we hoped they were, or because we don’t have enough in common with them to sustain a long-term relationship, or because they teach us a valuable lesson (either positive or negative) and then we move on.  

I’ve been out of high school now for nearly eleven years.  Out of college for seven.  And out of the professional arena for almost three.  And the friends I’ve accumulated through school and work- both expected and unexpected- have the funniest habit of all contacting me around the same time.  If I hear from one of these ladies, I can almost guarantee that the others are going to follow soon behind.

My best girl, Laken, I’ve known since birth.  Well, since my birth.  She suffered alone for about two weeks before I entered the world, and we’ve been a little like magnets ever since.  The funny thing about our relationship is that we live far apart from one another, and yet we depend on one another like neighbors.  We’ve been maid of honor in each other’s weddings, while only seeing each other a handful of times since high school.  And despite distance and the fact that we lead very different lives, she’s the first person I want to talk to when I have something to share.

My friend Bekah (ok, Becky, but I don’t remember if I ever actually called her that) I’ve known since sixth grade basketball.  Then we were seated next to each other in band the same year.  If I remember correctly, we had to be separated for talking and laughing too much.  These days, she can always be counted upon for a day of winery hopping and sipping.  And giggling. Of course, it means a weekend of travel for her and her husband, but I don’t think she minds.  And Kasey, her husband, tolerates our shenanigans without complaint.  

Kayla was in band with Becky and me.  The three of us got pretty silly together, and stayed that way through the end of high school.  These days, Kayla lives about a half hour from us with her husband and three kids.  Her youngest and our little guy were born about two weeks apart; we shared a due date after celebrating Thanksgiving together two years ago.  We try to get together when we can, and the kids have a ball with one another.

Katy moved to our town when we were sophomores in high school.  She joined our group of friends and was there (with Kayla) when Ryan and I were just flirting through the window of a concession stand at the races.  She has continued to keep in touch when breaks from grad school and vet school have permitted.  We’ve been known to have a marathon phone conversation or two when schedules allow, and have even managed to see each other twice in the past year.  

Sarah and Janelle are friends I made in college.  They were already friends with one another, both transferred from other schools after their first year (in fact, Janelle transferred from the school that would have been my second choice had I not been accepted to my first choice; our paths were destined to cross either way).  Neither of these two were friends I expected to add to this list, since they both look like supermodels, but I am so grateful to have both of them in my life.  Janelle isn’t exactly great at keeping in touch, but her daughter goes to school just a few miles from my house so it’s fairly common for her to just stop in once in awhile with little warning.  She took the photos at our wedding, and her talent is a constant inspiration.  Sarah and I don’t see each other as often, and don’t speak frequently, but we squeeze in a lunch date when we can.  She’s one of the quietest and most unassuming people I’ve ever known, with a giant heart and unfailing dependability.  

And last but certainly not least (I’ve tried to go chronologically where possible here) is Nicole.  Nicole and I met through work, where I was passed over after my first interview only to be called back several months later to take the position.  Nicole thought I should skip my honeymoon in order to start work (filling her previous position after she was promoted) immediately following our wedding.  Fortunately, my boss did not agree with her assessment, and after her own honeymoon to the same country nearly three years ago, I’m thinking she wouldn’t make that recommendation again.  

These ladies all lead very different lives- from one another and from me- and yet, it seems everyone gets on the same wavelength a few times a year, because if I hear from one, it’s a pretty safe bet I’ll be hearing from all of them in rapid succession.  These ladies, I hope, are my lifetime friends.  

Love you, ladies!  Happy 2014!

xoxox,

~d