emilia

Seize The Cake

November 22, 2011


(This post is underwritten by the American Cancer Society, official sponsor of birthdays.)

Emilia likes birthday parties. Actually, like is an understatement. Emilia loves birthday parties, with the fiery heat of a thousand wax birthday candles and a few hundred sparklers.

But here’s the thing about Emilia’s love of birthday parties: she’s not particularly fussy about whether those parties are in celebration of her birthday, or, in fact, whether they’re in celebration of any birthday at all. She’s really pretty emphatic that a ‘birthday’ – that is, a day marking someone’s birth – is by no means a necessary condition for a celebration involving cake and balloons and such. After all, if one limited such celebrations to birthdays, one would only have a handful of reasons to throw such a celebration in any given year. So why not declare every occasion a birthday-party-worthy occasion? Can you think of even one reason why you should not?

Emilia can’t, and so Emilia celebrates everything. And I’ve kind of taken that to heart. Because she’s right that we should be celebrating everything, and that when there isn’t anything obvious to celebrate, we should be looking for those things and declaring them celebration-worthy and then lighting candles and eating cake. So it is that we have thrown parties to celebrate potty-training accomplishments, dance recitals, haircuts, rainy days and Saturdays. We celebrate every visit to Grandma’s house with a cake and balloons. We do the same whenever Grandma visits our house. We do the same whenever pretty much anybody visits our house. Because, why not celebrate these things? Who knows how long we’ll have them to celebrate? We’ve faced too many losses; we’re facing too many losses. We lost my dad. My mom had a skin malignancy, and then an aneurysm, and then failed aneurysm surgery. My stepfather battled prostate cancer. Tanner fights his own fight. Every day could bring a loss, or bring us closer to a loss. Keep reading…

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A Room Of Her Own, Mostly

October 5, 2011

To say that we’re all pretty excited about moving to New York would be an understatement. If excitement could be measured on some sort of excitementometer, the levels in our household might cause it burst. Our household thrums with excitement. Even though we’re tripping over cardboard boxes and dealing with epic chaos and wrestling with [...]

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Sh*t My Kid Says

September 12, 2011

My daughter is something of a storyteller. It’s not that she lies; on the contrary, she is almost unbearably devoted to the truth, such that every single utterance made by anybody within earshot of her is deconstructed by her for the purposes of establishing the exact parameters of its bases in fact. But she does [...]

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Back To School

September 6, 2011

It seems impossible that I have cause to write the words back to school in reference to my own children. Up until a few years ago, back to school meant me going back to school. Back to grad school, back to teaching, back to ivy-clogged campuses clutching old copies of Rousseau’s Emile and stacks of [...]

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Oh, The Places You’ll Go (A Cautionary Tale)

August 31, 2011

Last week, I flew across Canada to visit my mom, who’s been sick. I brought Emilia with me, because I figured – morbid creature that I am – that if anything happened to my mom, I wanted her last memories to be of her hellion granddaughter demanding more cake. I’m joking, of course. I wanted [...]

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Pride, In The Name Of Love

June 29, 2011

Once upon a time, before I had children, I expected that when I did have children, they would be smart children, and that they would excel in everything that they did, and that this is what I would want for them – to be excellent – and this is what would make me happy, as [...]

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Flying Without Wings

June 19, 2011

I can still remember, vividly, the day that my father taught me to ride a bicycle. We lived at the end of a quiet suburban street lined with cherry and dogwood trees, our house set back from the cul-de-sac by what seemed to me, at age 5, to be a very long and very wide [...]

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Sugar And Spice And Everything Nice Except For The Voice In Her Head That Says Bad Things

June 16, 2011

Here’s the kind of conversation that my husband and daughter have, apparently, while I’m away: Emilia: “Daddy, I thought of a good name.” Kyle: “What’s that?” Emilia: “Mrs Poopy McFucky Pants.”

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Eichmann On The Playground

May 12, 2011

There’s nothing like being away from home and getting a text from your spouse that says call me as soon as you can. It’s about Emilia, he says when I call. What about Emilia? I don’t know what the right words are to express, here, how shrill my voice was. ‘Shrill’ works decently well, I [...]

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Terpsichorean Pieties

April 29, 2011

I would believe only in a God that knows how to dance. – Nietzsche, Thus Spake Zarathustra For filing under Things That You Probably Didn’t Know And Didn’t Think To Ask: all five year olds are fundamentally Nietzschean.

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