cake walk

"You can't judge a recipe's success based on how it turns out during Funeral Week."

These were Emily's words of encouragement to me as I faced this week--a somewhat daunting week which included four major baking assignments, one of which was to make Triple Caramel Cake, pictured above in our first post-Mother attempt.

The first task, cookies for Sarah's softball team, was a no-brainer. I can make chocolate chip cookies in my sleep. That was the first project to get crossed off the list, and one I did at about 11:30 Monday night, hoping that since I had already brushed my teeth, perhaps I wouldn't eat the dough. (I also had the good sense to mark the finished bag of cookies as off-limits to the rest of the family.)

The second was Emily's birthday cake--chocolate with White Mountain frosting. Though I can't yet make this one in my sleep, it's still a no-brainer, as it has been a family favorite for years and I've been making it since I was a young teenager. I made this one Tuesday afternoon and was pleased with the result (the cake, that is--no so much the decorative embellishments). Whew! Another one crossed off the list.

I knew I had to start the final two baking projects on Wednesday night if I was going to have them ready in time for a party I was invited to Thursday night. I am not as familiar with either of these recipes, as my mom had been the one to discover and make them in recent years. I would always frost them for her, but had never actually made the cakes myself. I started missing my mom again.

"If we're lucky, the world will end soon!" said Emily in another attempt to reassure me. In response to my questioning look, she clarified, "So we'll be able to see Grandma again and get cake-making tips." With this bit of encouragement, I pressed on and began caramelizing the sugar for the Triple Caramel Cake, and melting the chocolate for the Giant Ding Dong cake. There was no turning back now. (Yes, Miranda--I unabashedly took some Baker's Joy from my mom's stash.)

I finished baking both cakes and took the Ding Dong layers to my Dad's freezer for safe keeping and freshness protection overnight. After work on Thursday I frosted both cakes and was quite pleased with the results.

After some creative maneuvers to figure out how to transport the cakes safely to the party (which included the use of duct tape and a ceramic flower pot, held in place at Emily's feet) we arrived with everything intact!


It looks like I can bake cakes by myself after all.

farewell teenager

Twenty years ago at this very moment I was waddling the halls of Lutheran Hospital in Wheat Ridge, Colorado (pausing every now and then to breathe my way through a contraction). Emily was preparing to make her grand entrance into the world and despite the fact that I was having regular contractions, the nurses were not satisfied with my progress and suggested I walk the halls to speed things along. Suffice it to say that I am really glad it's 2010 and not 1990.

Little did I know at the time that the Lord was sending me one of His most amazing children to call my own.

Two years ago, before Emily left for college, I made a "10 Things I Love About You" book for her birthday. Though there are way more than just ten admirable, lovable, and endearing things I love about my second child, here are the ones I documented in her book:

• You are one of the hardest-working people I know. You don’t mind doing dirty jobs, and you do what it takes to get the job done—be it cleaning a bathroom, finishing a school assignment, or canvassing the streets of downtown Denver passing out flyers.


• I love your sense of humor! You’re not afraid to be a little goofy sometimes, and that just makes life all the more enjoyable.

• You’ve got a great sense of style. I love the way you combine textures, pattern, and color to come up with just the right outfit. I also love that you sometimes plan your outfits first on paper.

• Your priorities are in the right place. I love that I never have to guess on which side of the line you stand. I love you for making time for the things that matter most—you are an example to me and gentle reminder of the qualities I want to cultivate in myself.


• I love seeing your tithing envelope clipped to the strip by your door.


• I love your “Wood Eyes.” They are warm and true—just like your Dad’s.


• While everyone else screams, “SHOTGUN!” while racing to the car, you quietly—without murmuring—get in the back. I love the selflessness I see in you. I am often the surprised beneficiary, enjoying a freshly-mopped kitchen or a Clorox-fresh bathroom. Thank you.


• I love that you enjoy baking treats for our family and for others. You are so thoughtful and willing to go out of your way to brighten someone’s day with a homemade bit of goodness. (Side note--One of our favorite Emily quotes, when we were talking about social drinking: "I think cupcakes are the social lubricant!")

• Nothing is quite as satisfying as making a list. I love that you are a planner—a planner of parties, college financing, cleaning jobs, school assignments—you’ve got it all covered with one of your lists. I will miss seeing them posted by your door.


• I may make fun of it, but deep down I really like your serial-killer handwriting. (If you've seen it, you know what I mean.)


• I love and appreciate your determination to finance your college education. I see how frustrating it is at times—and wish we could do more to help you—but you never complain or express a sense of entitlement. I’m so proud of your hard work and dedication to making your own way.

So--although I miss the darling little girl who danced in front of the video camera in our old home videos and made goofy faces--and I sometimes feel like time passes all-to-quickly--I love the beautiful young woman you have become.

I thank my Heavenly Father every day for sending you to me.

Happy 20th Birthday, Emily!