Tag: 2017

Birthday Week CakeWalk (BWCW) Day 2

by Karen, posted in (it's all about the) food, Adult children, celebrations, local fun

Day 2, people!!

Today’s cake is brought to you courtesy of my daughter, who gifted it to me, by way of the Wells IGA. She asked me what I wanted and I told her to surprise me, but to get something she liked, too.

Here it is: Carrot Cake

Grade: Pass. Not as good as the chocolate one I had on Day 1, but still good. I would get it again. It could be that I just have an inherent bias toward chocolate anything, so I have to allow for that.

This one has cream cheese frosting, as expected, which was pretty good.

Mini-Carrot Cake from Wells IGA

Looking forward to Day 3!~ 🙂

Endings and beginnings

by Karen, posted in Adult children, family, relationships, teens

box-truckThe new year is already promising to be a very different one from those prior.

My firstborn is moving out and getting his own apartment. I am happy and excited for him.

I am also sad that he is no longer living here. I am still checking the driveway to make sure he is home safe at night, and he moved out almost a week ago. This new feeling that I’m experiencing–I’ve dubbed it HappySad.

I flash back on my own first leave-taking from my family of origin. My mother tearing up. When I asked her what was wrong, she said, “I’m afraid I’m never gonna see you.” I reassured her that of course she would still see me. I would come by all the time. I’d call. She just looked at me with those eyes that knew the truth, even as I ‘doth proclaim too much’.
She was right,  of course. I rarely went over. I eventually started calling her once a week because I felt obligated, not out of a true desire to speak to her. I loved my mother, so it wasn’t about that. I don’t know what it was about, to tell you the truth. I just moved out and I didn’t look back (until I had to move back, but that’s another, sadder story).

I was free!

So, as I watched my son excitedly packing up for his move to his first apartment, part of me was channeling my own mother, feeling her exact emotions, I am sure. “I’m never going to see him now,” I thought.

What goes around, comes around.

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