High Rise Glorious...Birthday Cake

 

There was a book that always made my mom cry when I was a kid.

Which was peculiar, because those of you that know my mom know that she doesn’t cry. The High Rise Glorious Skittle Skat Roarious Sky Pie Angel Food Cake. Written by Nancy Willard, this book with a bewildering title tells of a child that makes a cake for her mother’s birthday from a recipe her eccentric grandmother created many years before. Upon finding the recipe, this magical tale unfolds into a late night baking adventure, with the interference of some eclectic angels. The little girl learns that the secret ingredient is writing E-V-O-L into the flour sprinkled on the counter, which seems to unlock the magic.

I was reminded of this book while Beckett and I were baking Oliver’s first birthday cake. We have become vegan in the last year, so birthday cakes are a little challenging to come by, and good vegan birthday cakes are especially challenging to come by. But, Beckett’s enthusiasm for, well, anything is enough to overpower any doubt, so bake an eggless, dairy-free birthday cake we did.

Once the counter was strewn with flour and flax seed and almond milk and not-really-cream-cheese-frosting, I was taken by the overwhelming urge to tell Beckett to stir slowly so the flour didn’t erupt over the bowl or spread the sprinkles out so they aren’t all piled up in the middle of the cake. My perfectionism took hold, as it often wants to do, and I felt so stressed in the chaos of the moment. Apparently I thought Oliver would care that the cake wasn’t evenly sprinkled as he shoved fistfulls into his teeny, six-toothed mouth.

As the stress of this messy venture unfolded, that picture book that made my mom cry came flashing back to me. I teared up, just as my mom did when I was a child. I realized she probably had the same moment all those years ago, the moment of realizing our best times are when we write love in an unusual way all over a messy venture. So, I took a deep breath, smiled at Beckett and stepped back as he whacked frosting at the cake with the spatula. He had written love all over this skittle skat roarious cake for his baby long before I did.

I got the flour off the floor later. E-V-O-L.

Okayish Ever After

I used to be fine. But now I’m not.

Ironically, my life is better than ever, because “fine” is not a feeling. I was reminded of that when I read Beckett The Princess and the Pea by Rachel Isadora. I’ve read this fairytale many times, but this retelling struck me differently. The prince wasn’t trying to fulfill an expectation by marrying a difficult princess who couldn’t bear a night with forty soft mattresses and a pea-sized hindrance. Instead, he made the choice to marry a woman who felt uncomfortable and said so. He chose a woman who had some feelings and knew they deserved the light. This prince searched far and wide, and chose her because “nobody but a princess could be as sensitive as that.”

AND THEY LIVED OKAYISH EVER AFTER BECAUSE HE MARRIED SOMEONE THAT FEELS STUFF.

Life is complicated. I feel grateful because I have two precious little boys, an amazing husband, and live at the beach. I feel scared when I go into a store and see people not wearing masks, putting me and my loved ones at risk. I feel sad when I can’t see those I love or meet new friends because of COVID. I feel shame when I realize that I am guilty of participating in systems of power. I feel aggravated when my dog won’t stop peeing on the floor. I feel exhausted because I’m a mother of two boys that don’t like to sleep as much as I do.

This fairytale, most importantly, reminded me that we have to model how we experience feelings for our kids. Our troubles don’t come from having feelings, our troubles come from how we handle them...and our children see that. They are going to know if we’re angry or happy. What they are going to learn is how to handle their feelings, and, consequently, how to care for themselves. This looks like using our words to express what we’re feeling; stating our boundaries and conditions when we need to; and asking for help when we need it.

I am not fine, I have all the feelings, but at least I know that I’m living this complicated life. I use them to know when I need to change my actions or call for help or thank God or hug my family a little tighter. And, thanks to the Princess and the Pea, my kids will know they don’t have to be fine.

Don’t be fine. Be a princess.