So remember how my beloved son's birthday was a MONTH ago?
Well, he spent several weeks badgering me about a classroom cupcake party because "all the kids have cupcakes or ice cream or stuff that we eat at snacktime to celebrate their birthday...blah blah blah."
I pointed out the fact that we celebrated his birthday THREE times with THREE different cakes and THREE different sets of guests. He was unphased by this data.
The next day (Friday) I went to work and shared my pain about having to buy a bunch of cupcakes to bring in the following Monday. Of course, I keep company with wonderful over achieving uber mommies...they looked at me blankly and in unison said "But aren't you going to make the cupcakes from scratch? It only takes a second and it's really worth the time."
Time...in my life it's far more valuable than money. Which is why I took a huge paycut and career downshift to have time to be the mom and creative person I wanted to be rather than another high strung, anxiety driven executive management droid that I was.
So I spent last Sunday looking for all the ingredients I need. What an education that was. Did you know that the East Village is NOT a really great place to find cake flour....at one point I was tempted to throw up my hands and ask "who do you have to f*ck to find baking ingredients in this neighborhood?"
You see, I live in an area where most people have an oven in their kitchen only because it came with their apartment. Many of my childless friends/couples use the oven part for storage. When you live in a neighborhood that has ten zillion places to eat within a two block radius - sweating over pots and pans doesn't make much sense. Of course, it's also true that in the East Village - diet coke and coffee have their own dedicated space in the food pyramid.
Long story short. It's Sunday night at 9pm and I 'm toiling away, stirring the batter, getting the cocoa out for the frosting when I look at my husband and say "do you think that Ben will remember how his mom made cupcakes from scratch for his class snack/celebration?"
To which he replied "No. He'll just remember that he ate a chocolate frosted cupcake."
So I gently woke my son up, brought him into the kitchen and said "Look Ben. This is your mommy making cupcakes from scratch because she loves you more than anything in the world. So just in case I kick off sooner rather than later - I really want you to remember this."
He rubbed his eyes and said "okay" and returned to bed. The next day Ben woke up with a fever of 102. He and the 27 cupcakes stayed home from school.
No good deed goes unpunished.
Will write about today's anti-war march soon. Brian/Ben and I marched from Union Square to Foley Square down in the financial district. It was a beautiful day and there was an ocean of people.
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