We woke Saturday morning to 2 fevered and fairly sleepless children that were sporting hacking coughs that would suit a 50 year old chain smoking bar fly better. I tried to salvage the morning with home made pancakes but they literally were not biting, so I broke out the emergency measures.
Champagne and chocolate (not for them, of course, for Tim and I). I still had a bug about making those cupcakes I linked to in the last post, so I strapped one of the 20 pound (plus change) twins into the backpack and got to work in the kitchen. Thank god for the mimosa, it made the weight on the back seem trivial.
The cupcakes came together pretty smoothly, I made sure to prep the ingredients Friday night, so it just required some mixing, melting and pouring (with far too much tasting, I must say).
I loved both recipes, the chocolate cake was enhanced with Murphy's stout rather than Guinness and the taste of the cake was good, intriguing really. They ended up just a bit flat as Tim was giving me a hand in the baking part and pulled them out a minute too soon. No harm done though, especially when we scooped out the centers to add ganache. Yeah, that made them faultless. By the end of the morning I was covered in flour, batter and a little spit up (none in the cakes, I swear, just on me). And a platter full of love to give to friends and others.
A few bright moments in the day...the boys having their V day meal of In n Out. We had to resort to a chocolate shake and fries as we had yet to see food make it to their stomachs.
And Mace blew his first bubble, and I caught it...that was awesome.
We did make it out that night for dinner at our place, but as stellar as the meal was, we were exhausted and knew we were in for another rough night. Our friend works the bar so we sat there and chatted and ate and met a few really nice folks and decided the bar is the place to sit in that tiny little restaurant, you actually get jostled less there than at the tables. Most of our dinner conversation centered around how sad it is to see them sick and how it was hard to remember them being any other way. Parenting is weird like that, each phase or challenge seems all consuming to the memory. Anyway, the night had no romantic finish as we arrived home to a sleepless Mace, up in Opa's lap watching an action flick at 11:30 and needing his Mama for most of the night. But we did have cupcakes, people.
Sunday was a shade better, there was a plan for me to meet up with my circle of knitting friends and a grand destash was to happen. I am not sure I would have made it without the impetus of the yarn giving. Tim was awesome, he and his Dad assumed responsibly for our nap less miserable boys and I scrambled out the door and was greeted by this wonderful sight, a table full of yarn, ripe for the picking.
I was late, this was after some had been taken and traded. And yet somehow I ended up with 2 bags full of yarn and a flawlessly completed Orangina that I will have to model because it feels like it was commissioned.
Lori Z is impeccable in her knitting and finishing and I was honored to take that baby home. I felt like a total glutton as I headed out with my bags of free yarn, but to be fair, I did bring ganache cupcakes, okay?
Anyway, sorry for the blow by blow on the (not terribly) Happy (but still good) Heart Day . I think my testament of love will just be to say to Tim, though it was not achingly sweet, or deeply romantic, it was the two of us standing solidly by each other, giving each other breaks when we needed it, assuming both boys' care when the other needed a shower or a few hours sleep, and being the partner we promised to be.
And in my book, well, that is pretty sexy and pretty loving. (Said as I wipe dripping snot off my nose). Love you, MCD. Maybe next year?
Me by Him, Him by Me, Just the way it should Be