plays with food.

I know you hate hearing about how busy other peoples’ lives are as much as I do, but I want to remember this week forever. So I’m writing about it. 

One third birthday party,

which meant one chocolate captain america cake and fifteen captain america cookies.

One fifth birthday party, 

which meant one big chocolate and marshmallow scooby doo/ batman cake and lots of finding my inner child while on a bouncy castle. Eat Pray Bounce?

One wedding,

which meant 100+ white chocolate raspberry, red velvet, and vanilla lemon cupcakes.

aaaand 5 hours of wedding photography. Yes, it was hard. Yes, I’d do it again.

One confirmation,

which meant family and food!

One last minute order of chocolate chip cookies,

which meant that I had to forget about sleep for just one more night.

And somehow in between all that there were approximately 15 hours of babysitting. 

I love my job(s). I am exhausted, but grateful that I’m lucky enough to know and love as many people as I do, and to be included in their special days. Hopefully I’ll remember that next time I’m up at 5 baking cupcakes.

xo

Audrey

I think I’m just starting to get it.

The magic I’ve been hearing about.

The south, it’s different.

Gentle.

I’m slipping away from my hurried Long Island attitude and falling into the “I’ve got nowhere to be except for right here right now” mentality, if only for this week.

Down here, lips turn upward at the corners for strangers. The best part is- it’s genuine.

Even the air is hospitable, it’s the perfect balance of warmth and breeze, just right like Goldilocks’ porridge.

And the pralines.

ohhhh the pralines.

I hate it when I discover something so breathtakingly delicious it can only be savored, not devoured. Or do I love it?

I think I’ll stay, just a little bit longer.

xo

Audrey

Dear Mom,

It’s been sixtythreemilliononehundredandfiftyeightthousandfourhundred seconds

onemillionfiftytwothousandsixhundredandforty minutes

seventeenthousandfivehundredandfortyfour hours

sevenhundredandthirtyone days

onehundredandfour weeks

twentyfour months

two years

since I last heard you laugh, gave you a hug, told you I love you more than anything, saw your crazy morning hair, felt your soft neutrogena lotioned hands, listened to you say the last thing you’d say to me in person, “don’t forget to take a twenty from my wallet, I’m sure dad’s not feeding you much.”

I like that our last encounter wasn’t sad. That it was just another morning, you just happened to be in bed not feeling well. I like that your last words to me weren’t teary, but rather a funny thing. I can remember it and laugh, instead of remember it and cry.

Things have changed a lot without you. Only now have I just begun to realize that this has to happen, that I have to be okay with it. Everyone says that the first year is the hardest, hitting all of those big days for the first time without you would be terrible. Truth is, I didn’t even know what was going on half of the time in 2010. I think this past year was significantly harder, somehow the extension of time made it finally feel real. Buying a prom dress, driving your car for the first time by myself without you taking a million pictures of me pulling out of the driveway as a mom should, deciding where I’m going to college, cutting nearly a foot of my hair off without you holding my hand. That was the tough stuff. Not the birthdays and holidays. I think I’m just starting to get that this is it. My life is mom-less and that’s how it’s going to be. I feel like I’m coming out of the hardest year, hitting today. At least I hope I am.

Tonight we celebrated you. We weren’t sure what to do with ourselves, as these big days usually feel. I think we did today just right. We surrounded ourselves with family, friends, flowers, beer, wine, pizza, cheese, memories, music. We didn’t talk much about you, since you hate being the center of attention. We did cheers to you though, about thirty times. I’m sure you joined in with your “chardonnay with ice on the side please” for at least one of those, even if we didn’t all get to clink your glass.

I meant to capture some moments of tonight, of us genuinely having fun, as if you were here. I totally forgot. That’s okay. Maybe it’s not about the photos that we don’t have, but the memories we do.

It’s about that pair of perfectly poured Guinesses enjoyed.

And those sophisticated sips.

And the large amounts of cheese consumed, as only you could appreciate.

Cheers, mom. zicky tacky, zicky tacky oy oy oy!

I love you more than anything, always and forever.

xo

Audrey

Remember bringing cupcakes into school on your birthday in elementary school?

Everyone loved you even if it was just for that day, not only because you were providing them with sugar, but because you were wasting valuable class time with your “I exist because I was born on this day x number of years ago so we should celebrate” needs.

And then you got to go around to your old teachers with the extras, and see the “little kids” who were probably not even 6 months younger than you.

It was kind of like a mini power trip on top of a sugar coma.

This past weekend I did a double order of cupcakes for a double order of kids (they’re twins and I just crack myself up). Considering that I was a chocolate only person at the age of 8, I’d say these kids have a pretty sophisticated palette for their age.

Red velvet with marshmallow frosting was requested.

Since I find this recipe to be perfect as it is, I’ll just send you over here to see it.

I usually top them with the cream cheese frosting attached to the recipe, but this marshmallow frosting was pretty delicious as well.

The recipe says that you’ll get 30 cupcakes out of it, I get about 38 perfectly sized though.

Enjoy!

Audrey