Cakes (and a poem) for Babes
Two babes knit together in theirs mother’s womb
Watching out for and loving each other until the tomb
Deserve cupcakes galore as one year more
They turn to celebrate birth
A birth that shook the world that eve
At least ours, those boys! We got to keep
With coos of that fresh newborns’ song
To “The Girl from Ipanema” they came along
They came into the world that night
With so much joy, perhaps some fright
Of what could lie ahead when two
You raise at once, who has a clue?
Trust as our weapon, teamwork our strength
We got through the endless nights, minds blank
But what a crazy miracle, this
Two for one deal, a double-challenge bliss
I could not imagine Alex without Jake, or the other way around
As we continue to grow in this quake, joy and awe dwell profound
The boys’ birthday crept up on me like a silent toddler lurking behind you when you open the fridge.
As a tangent that will prove relevant, I am German. I am also Irish. What you get when you combine the two is expressing emotion through poetry. Thus, I have fulfilled my inherent desire for nostalgia through rhyme, and now I carry on.
I promised in my second blog post the unveiling of one of my other secret weapons, besides my husband, in my efforts to keep a healthy life balance with this job and having a family. Feel not condescended as you read this, as I know many–if not most–of you already know this secret: community help.
I am blessed that my community support is both extended family and friends both in the area and far away. My generous parents-in-law, my siblings, my siblings-in-law, my dad and Bonus Mom who support me remotely (don’t tell the authorities, but there may be instances where said parents baby-sit from Washington via FaceTime while a hypothetical mother runs upstairs to grab a basket of laundry). Someone is so often available to watch the kids when needed while I fulfill orders in the kitchen or run to Costco for a 50-pound bag of selfish flour that doesn’t like to share cart space. I’ve been the grateful recipient of my sister-in-law, brothers-in-law, my brother, and my sisters coming over to support me on a busy day, one of whom has 4 children of her own. We’ve been pleasantly surprised by random deliveries of dinner, random snail-mail letters (yes that system still exists), and a mug that says “Wonder Woman” to encourage me on the rough days (who won the in-law jackpot? THIS GUY!). And who can forget my baby sister who virtually cradled ME through months of sleep deprivation when she lived with us to help care for our newborn twins? And I’m immediately regretting that super weird image. And all the meals from my aunt (Maker of Giant Cookie, blog post #2) and siblings, and friends near and far. You know who you are. How lucky I am to say there are too many to name and give credit.
Remember when I said I was done being nostalgic? I think I lied.
Oh, and “The Girl from Ipanema?” True story. The anesthesiologist deemed it somehow a metaphysically appropriate serenade to the birth of twins. Don’t ask me.
Now go buy some cookies to celebrate Wednesday! misswhiskbakery.com/orders
~Miss Whisk
