That's my boy, getting ready for his first Homecoming Dance. Here's a shot of him getting his tie re-tied. There was a constant stream of comments from the Peanut Gallery. There were also looks of adoration from the Peanut Gallery.
Lest you think this was an idyllic scene, know that a fight ensued, and The Peanut Gallery's parting remarks were I hope you die at the dance! Henry's response was You're not a good person.
Brothers.
Looking sharp, Henry!
Well, the west coast has the sunshine and the girls all look so tan --
The only glitch in the night was Henry showing up at the gathering spot without a corsage for his date AND no jacket. I had suggested both and was nixed. Ahem. Thankfully, he did not die at the dance and, rather, danced the night away with about 900 other kids. I have to say that with the exception of the beautiful part, I'm glad that I'm no longer a teenager.
Earlier in the day, I had baked and decorated a chocolate cake for an adorable eighty-year old man. I had met this man a few months back, when I had dinner with him and his partner of forty years. They just got married, are both impossibly handsome and fun, and I'm just thrilled to have been included in the celebration. Here's the cake:
Here's a close-up:
And here:
Those are pink fondant pigs, basking in the best chocolate frosting you've ever made. It's Martha Stewart's recipe, and I think I posted it once on this blog, but I can't be bothered right now to find it. Kit Kats lined the cake.
Here I am at the party. I won an Oscar for the cake:
In all honesty, that's a real Oscar, won by my friend's grandfather back in the twenties. It is very heavy, very shiny and very cool.
Thank you to my readers, all of whom I would be desperate without.
Today, I'm doing laundry, setting out the Halloween shit with Oliver and otherwise relaxing. I increased Sophie's medication a few days ago, in a half-hearted attempt to decrease her seizures. The medication is a benzo and has a slow half-life (this is the sort of lingo that my peeps only will understand). It appears to be catching up with her, because this is what she looks like for much of the day:
The life of a person with uncontrolled epilepsy can truly suck, and I'm not going to mince words about that. One can certainly live well with epilepsy, but for the 30% of those whose seizures are not controlled or who need massive amounts of drugs to control them, epilepsy is a scourge -- god-d*&^ed, f*&%ing scourge.
So, not to leave you with a bunch of imprecations, but what are you up to this Sunday afternoon?
Oh Elizabeth; wine came out of my nose at that exchange between Henry and Oliver, and when Jonah saw that cake on Facebook he demanded we move to LA so you can make his birthday cake, and I nannied for a girl, many moons ago, that slept like Sophie is posed. I was the only girl who'd nanny for her, as she was autistic and nonverbal and her parents figured since I knew sign language (which she didn't speak? Oh well) I'd be perfect. We spent many afternoons just sitting on her bed, me reading, she wrapped up like a pretzel, humming.
ReplyDeleteSo. Bearing witness in Michigan for you. Wishing we lived a whole lot closer.
I am, at this moment, very happy to know you. I just read my husband the "I hope you die at the dance!" and "You are not a good person" comments. He laughed.
ReplyDeleteIs there a stronger word than scourge?
Even with the modifiers, it doesn't seem enough.
Also- that cake deserves an Oscar! And you, my love, are ready for your close-up.
Henry is impossibly handsome! I love the photo of him and The Peanut Gallery. You caught a sneaky moment that shows an adoration that goes both ways. And Sophie. I am sorry it is so hard.
ReplyDeleteHmmmm...spent a sunday playing city rec softball. won two games. kids stayed at home. They came for the celebrations afterwards -- one complaining that the food in the restaurant was disgusting, one as happy as the pig on top of your most excellent cake. Girl who thought the restaurant was disgusting managed to eat her food in under three minutes. Happy pig boy had seconds. Unhappy girl blames happy boy for his happiness. snarl snarl. I need to learn to just move along at some plane of existence outside of bickering -- do you know where that plane is? And how do I get there?
ReplyDeleteI love that cake! And yes, Henry is soooo handsome. Glad I only had the one boy but really, my son and my daughter weren't any different. They just didn't hit each other.
ReplyDeleteMy daughter and her boyfriend are here this weekend. In a strange twist it turns out that her boyfriend is helping to design and build a commercial marijuana facility for Health Canada. I was asking him about the different kinds of weed. What kind did you need?
Something with high CBD- which is the "healing" part- the THC, to simplify it immensely- is the "high" part.
DeleteStrains w/ high CBD: Cinderella 99, Harlequin, etc...google "high CBD strains"
I love love love that cake!! Is there a story behind it? I can only assume that there is. ;) My Sunday was a never-ending adventure of over-stimulated children and soccer losses and cranky parents a getting ready for the construction project that starts in my house bright and early tomorrow AM, whether I am ready or not. A day for which wine was invented, if there ever was one! Love the interaction between your boys...mine will be similar in a few years. There is a deep bond between them, although it is usually buried in potshots. Wishing you and yours a peaceful evening!
ReplyDeleteI love that exchange between your two (handsome) sons. It makes me feel a modicum of relief from the fact that I spent the afternoon being told repeatedly how HATED I am and that I am the worst mother EVER (also between laundry and Halloween shit).
ReplyDeleteI hate the seizures, for you. I don't know what it is like to watch your child go through that. I am sorry that you know all too well.
Henry and his date could not be any cuter, but I'm with you, not worth it. I would not go back to being a teenager again!
ReplyDeleteI began the arduous task of purging our basement this weekend. I would like an Oscar for that, please.
You are gorgeous Elizabeth! Henry and his date are adorable but he does owe her a corsage. And my heart goes out to Sophie and you. I am struck over and over by the dignified courage you possess and though I realize parents do what they must for their children, you have to have something else in you to carry on as you do. Sweet Jo
ReplyDeleteelizabeth, it's great to see you all dressed up, out for an evening of fun and tribute (Oscar!) and cake (pink piggies!). it has been really difficult to read you these past weeks, knowing how unforgiving the endless seizures are for all of you. my heart goes out to your boundless courage, wit, and fortitude. ♥
ReplyDeletePlease read this to Henry: Henry, listen to your mother. Always get your date a corsage. Why? Because it is small penance for what your date (and her weary mother) endured in preparation for this dance. There was the dress shopping. And that is just the beginning. Did you know that certain dresses require certain undergarments? I don’t want to make you blush but trust me on this, Henry - bras are not cheap. And then there is the shoe shopping. Followed by the purse shopping. Followed by the manicure and pedicure. Followed by the hair drama. That sun-kissed beach tousled hair doesn’t come cheap. And when high school girls have a salon appointment and it doesn’t go well, they cry. I know there is nothing more your mother and father could wish for than to experience such exquisite torture with their daughter, your sister, Sophie. So I am telling you this, for Sophie. I am telling you what a big sister would want you to know. Buy the damn corsage.
ReplyDeleteLoved this.
DeleteWhere to begin? The seizures - breathing deeply and sending love and light. I am holding out for a sea change for you and Sophie soon. The cake - abso-freaking-lutely perfect. My girls saw the photo and needed towels to mop up the drool. You are a wonder. The boys - thank God your boys speak to each other the way my girls do. I know that one day they will all grow up to be good friends and have rowdy holiday gatherings and laugh about their hateful ways, but for now it wears on me and I'm glad to know I'm not the only parent who hears stuff like that. Here's hoping Monday rocks. Love.
ReplyDeleteWhat a cute pair they are! (I hope this doesn't sound creepy, but) that young men seems to get more handsome by the week. So glad that you have the pleasure of watching him enjoy these rites of passage.
ReplyDeleteThat party-with-Oscar looks like it was really fun, and the cake? I want to dive into it with those pink pigs!
I keep hoping that things will ease for Sophie - and thus, for all of you - and I will continue to hope/pray/wish/send positive energy. The day-in-day-out grind of the unrelieved seizures is too cruel.
A tiny package is on its way, with hopes of providing you some laughs...things you can apply to the insurance companies and the government-shutdowners, if you like - maybe even Henry & Oliver will be able to use it in their ongoing dialogue. xoxox
No one can wish death upon each other as lovingly as brothers.
ReplyDeleteLOL -- LOVE the peanut gallery comments. Is that Henry's date? She is quite beautiful and so CALIFORNIA, isn't she? (As you said.) The cake is great too, and how exciting to hold a real Oscar. I would have loved that opportunity!
ReplyDeletehad i had a day like your saturday, i wouldn't have spent sunday doing halloween things - you're a super mom!
ReplyDeleteHenry is so handsome and his date looks happy - it's fun :)
ReplyDeleteYou look great holding an Oscar! And your cake is so fun ... Are the pigs wallowing in normalcy? (your earlier post)
Benzos suck. I know and love someone who at times can't get by without them. And that is supposedly recreational. Life is way too weird.