The Quiet Life of Violet

Drafts: Grandparents

I've been going through the drafts of posts that I've got here on the blog and I've come to a conclusion. Instead of deleting the posts because they're a little old and irrelevant, I'm going to post them now and leave a current comment at the bottom.

July 31st, 2011

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These are 3 of 4 of Roman's Grandparents. He was about two months old here and so, so tiny. Oh my word. Tiny. And he looked like an old man. My Grandfather, to be exact.

My heart is breaking that he'll never be this tiny (and hasn't been in a long time!) again. SO small! Soak up the newborn days, ladies. They fly by fast and and they're SO very precious.

xo,
Violet

A Babyshower Cake

I recently co-hosted a baby shower for a friend who happens to have Celiac disease. If you're not aware, Celiac sucks. BOOM. It sucks. My friend cannot have any wheat or gluten (a sticky protein found in many grains including wheat, spelt, barley and rye to name a few) and this almost always means that cake at parties are out for her. Even if the cake is made from a gluten free mix, things like vanilla extract made with a gluten-containing alcohol can make her sick. Little things. Cross-contamination. Accidental ingredients. It's tricky and frustrating for her, not to mention MAJORLY EXPENSIVE if she wants to buy a pre-made or specially made cake or treat for any occasion.

So, with the help my awesome friend, Kerena, we made her shower cake. I purchased three bags of Bob's Red Mill gluten free vanilla cake mix and Kerena worked her cake magic on those puppies. The three cake mixes made two tiers, two layers each. She whipped up a big batch of her gluten-free buttercream and frosted the separate cake layers, too.

The day before the shower (the cake was baked and buttercreamed the day before that), I dropped Roman off at Camp Grandma's at 9:30 a.m., picked up Starbucks for us (and a cakepop for her daughter K!) and made my way to Kerena's house. There we spent the next five hours working on this cake. We fondant-ed and powdered sugar-ed and vodka-ed the whole time. The vodka-ing was not as take-your-top-off-and-dance-on-the-table as it sounds... we attached pieces of fondant to the fondant-covered cake with the gluten-free alcohol.

After a few pictures, we loaded up the car -- the cake carefully balanced on Kerena's lap. The baby shower was to be held at the Momma-to-be's Mom's house and we were lucky enough that it was only a two minute drive from Kerena's.

The day of the shower, I inserted the handmade flags into the top layer of the cake. Middle flag first, then the two to the left, and the two to the right. Eeek! Only had one chance to puncture the top layer of fondant and place the flags, so I had to make sure that I did it right!

And guess who even disassembled the cake and cut it up for serving? This girl. *flex*

Operation: Gluten-free Cake was a success.

 

Dear Squid-Kid: Snip, Snip

My Boy,

Last week, Mommy's friend (and Gavin's Mommy!) Jewel's gave you a real hair cut. I've snipped your locks three or four time before, but you squirm like a worm and, lets be real, I didn't REALLY ever know what I was doing.

Your hair was getting out-of-control CRAZY. I started bobby-pinning your bangs back at meal times because it was getting in your eyes and you'd try and brush the hair away which would result in me having to clean (insert everything on your grimy mealtime hands HERE) off of your face and out of your eyes.

It was time. Gavin was there for moral support.

 

You did so good, buddy! I had to clean up the back a little later that day because you were gettin' squirmy towards the end with Jewels, but other than that, it was perfect!

It's funny how something as small as being brave and getting a haircut can make me so proud of you, my boy.

Forever yours,
Momma

Flight

Oh, Spring

Dearest Spring,

Please linger for a little while. Your big sister, Miss Summer, will soon be here to settle in and sweat us all out. Don't tell Mother Nature, but I much prefer you, darling. Sweet smells, sturdy seeds sprouting out of the soil. Birds bouncing atop the grass looking for buggies to munch and "bum bees" (Roman's phrase) flitting about the branches of blooms.

*sweet sigh*

We adore you.

Love,
The Clark Family

The Dog Kisser

From a few weeks ago.

Roman was enjoying a quick visit to Danny's (Granny's) house and decided that he wanted to kiss Mom's wiener dog, Punsie.

The bow tie. The stripes. The parted hair that happened to lay flat (it normally looks like Einstein). The gigantic drumstick/baseball bat. My boy! It's so crazy that I a) created a person INSIDE my body. I still can't get over it. It's straight up science fiction! And b) the little person that my womb knit is just so incredibly handsome. I can't wait (yes I can!) to see what he'll look like as a kid, as a teenager and as a man. What an amazing gift it will be to watch him grow... I hope I'm lucky enough.

It's so weird that it always comes back to this place for me. The whole cancer thing has forever changed how I look at my life and those around me. In someways it's made me a bit bitter and has definitely shortened my patience for things and people that piss me off. Why waste time, you know? I, more often than not, know what I want, where I want to be and what I want to do. It might come off as bitchy or controlling, but it's really just something that cancer has instilled in me. I don't have time to dilly-dally and sit in my sadness. If something is wrong or off with me, I fix it or at least try to work on it. I get over things quickly. I forgive easily. I give second chances, but third chances are hard to come by.

I try and put the past and the hurt and my bad experiences away. The I.V. needles and port-a-caths and mean nurses and nice nurses. The time I was written up as a racist by a bitchy nurse because I was dying and fragrances were super intense for me and she walked in with her stinky perfume on and I promptly told her she to leave me room because her smell was going to make me puke. Yup, she took that as me not liking her because she was black, which is RIDICULOUS because I love everyone.  So, yeah, me in the hospital bed days away from death, with a giant tumor obstructing any and everything from passing into my intestines, needing a nurse but none of them wanting to take me as their charge because it was put into my file that I don't like people with darker skin than mine. My isolated room, lights off, curtains drawn because the light made me nauseous. My sister crying in the corner, her only sister was wasting away, vomiting nothing all day, gaunt, grey faced, death. My whole family upset because off my condition, my Daddy's heartbroken and now I'm deemed a damn racist. Ugh. It was all bullshit. Intense bullshit. I have to lock the memories and experiences  up and keep them out of my everyday mind because it's frightening and scary and traumatic for me.

Even with blatant reminders of my past (fake leg, anyone?), I try my very hardest to focus on the good, on what I've been given. If my days are shortly numbered, and I have absolutely no way of knowing if they are or aren't, I want to spend them happily. Target trips with my son and sharing a bag of popcorn from the cafe. Morning dishes, afternoon naps, sidewalk chalk, family dinners with my two boys. The hum of the laundry room, the smell of my tea tree face wash. Bulgarian lavender essential oil before bedtime -- deep breaths of pure, strong plant oil. Coconut ice cream. Roman lighting up everyone's life.

Speaking of him lighting things up, he really is this gigantic, magical, creature straight from heaven. Some days I even peek around his messy mop of hair in hopes of finding a swirly unicorn horn.  Sure, he has a bit of spice in his pantry, but this boy, my boy... I swear, the reason that I made it through everything I have so far is him. He is destined for huge, amazing things -- I can feel it in my bones.

But for now, I'm glad he's satisfied with drumsticks, bow ties and smooching puppies.

 

Dear Squid-Kid,

I love everydrop of your being.
Always.

Love,
Momma