No better way to capture the complete and utter delight of Christmas vacation than to think about two fuzzy pajama-clad boys reading together, tearing around the house, and scrambling to open presents. Luke is my joy; Sam is the man. Oh, and Lily...When I first saw her, she took my breath away. Those big eyes that stay glued to you...I guess the reason I haven't been blogging is because I have *no complaints* whatsoever. Life is just rich and good. When do you ever hear me saying that???
Ha, ha. Anyway, I labored over how to make a cake for Luke and I finally settled on *buying* a guitar cake pan, over Joe's scoffing, and making a drum cake to go with it. They both turned out, well, let's just say...a little less than professional. The guitar cake looks alright but the frosting colors are downright ugly. Turns out that when you add a certain amount of blue food coloring, there's no more additional red you can add to make it purple. The color just keeps getting more and more of what I like to call steel grey.
So there's that.
The drum on the other hand, is not only ugly, but sloppy. It looks like a third-grader did it - while playing a video game. I can tell you all of the various reactions before I even hear them:
Me: "This is so embarrassing." (self-deprecating over-analytical criticism)
Dad: "Could you use a knife to guide your hand while you draw the lines?" (attempt to be constructive)
Mom: "It's fine. What's the problem?" (pragmatic indifference)
Joe: "Too...many...jokes..." (brotherly mocking)
Dave: "I love it!" (unbridled adoration and enthusiasm)
Luke: "Want...cake" (single-minded determination)
Two years ago tonight, Dave and I went out to dinner with his family and then headed home for a quiet evening of rest. Not long after midnight, I uttered the fateful words that changed our lives forever: "Water...breaking!" and nothing has been the same since. I was truly freaked out in the beginning but now I am at peace. I think of our lives as kind of like the drum cake - ragged around the edges and really kind of a mess, but just so sweet.
I love you, my two-year-old boy.
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