Sunday, October 2, 2011


At least once a week I fantasize about an afternoon I will one day have. Jeremy and I are lounging poolside at the Raleigh Hotel in Miami or the Ritz-Carlton Kapalua in Maui. We are alone. The sun is shining, it's not super hot. But I am. I am golden brown. I get weekly pedicures. I have the time and energy for pilates or Physique 57 everyday. My hair and teeth are clean and have been for several years as I have regained the brain capacity to remember and make brushing and bathing a daily priority. I'm reading a book with chapters and without illustrations and the most pressing decision of the day is that of dinner. What we're ordering, not what I'm making. Nora and Pats are happy, healthy, independent young women in committed, loving relationships. Perhaps, with daughters of their own. I mean this is like a real fantasy, like, 25 years away...I freak about little forehead wrinkles and in my ultimate daydream I'm a grandmother? Who am I? Anyhoo, the fact that this scenario pops into my head so often is particularly puzzling for two main reasons: My husband is present and my children are not.
Maui 2008
I am completely obsessed with my girls. Every little change in the consistency of poop caused by bananas or sweet potatoes is cause for celebration. A new tooth? Forget it. Let's bust out the Funfetti cupcakes and party down. The fact that I hang onto every new word, mannerism, raspberry, milestone, makes it almost unimaginable that I would long for a day that don't completely revolve around them. ALMOST. Look, it's not that I want my kids GONE. I just think it's natural to long for that day, that half a day, that MOMENT where you and your partner can just be. Together. Like the good 'ol days...
Jeremy and I have been on exactly 4 dates in 2 years. 4 dates since Nora was born. Wait. That's not even true. 3 1/2. We tried for the 4th the other night and it was a complete disaster. I couldn't make it through. The girls were fine. They were with my mom. Plenty of bottles. No worries. I started to think it was him. US. Like it just wasn't THERE anymore (hence, my confusion about my fantasy with him in the future). But it wasn't him. He's amazing. It was me. I wasn't fine. I needed MY nukkie. My security blanket of post bedtime Bravo was ripped away and I had no idea how to behave outside after the sun went down. Seriously. ME? I used to go out to meet my friends at 11:00pm. The sun coming up was the issue back then. 
I was completely dolled up the other night. Sequins and lashes (my REAL blankies) and yet it felt...wrong. I didn't feel like I looked pretty enough for him, or skinny enough. I was EXHAUSTED and I was nervous we wouldn't have anything to talk about. The pressure I put on myself to make this the "perfect date", as they are so few and far between, was completely overwhelming. Instead of just believing him when he said I was beautiful and "going with it," I let the sadness of the swamps get to me and I ended up sabotaging the whole night. We came home early. On separate trains. 
WHAT THE FUUUUUCK? What's with the pressure? Like there's not enough pressure put upon us through media, society, other "supermoms..." We need to put added pressure on OURSELVES? So stupid. If I invited my friend Jenn or Mary or anyone over for a play date or brunch or coffee and cookies and they showed up in sweats and no make up I wouldn't give a rat's ass. Who cares? And if Jeremy and I had plans to go out and I threw on jeans, my hair in a ponytail and a tank top I may or may not have worn as jammies earlier in the week, he wouldn't give a shit either. So why should I? Yes. It's nice (for both of you) to get spiffed up every once in a while. But it's about the time you spend TOGETHER. Not about the time you spend getting ready. 
I'm putting so much pressure on myself to be this chick I used to be...trying so desperately to hold on to the "Good Old Days."  Well, guess what? They're long gone, sweetheart, and they're NOT COMING BACK. And thats GOOD. It's called LIFE. It's called growing up. So get over it. I'm probably never gonna eat buffalo wings at 4 am again, or make out in the bathroom of a bar with a guy I just met, or smooth talk my way into a fancy hotel just to go skinny dipping in the roof-top pool. Actually, when it's all spelled's pretty easy to say good-bye to these things, right? So screw it. Happily ever after starts now. Today. These are the Good NEW Days. And I'm gonna have good new days and do new good things. I'm gonna rock my post-double-c-section bikini bod with pride while I watch Nora squeal as she gets knocked down by her first wave down the shore. I'm gonna sit up with Pats one night and eat ice cream out of the carton at 2 am as she vents to me about some asshole who just broke her heart that she's way better off without anyway. And who knows, maybe Jeremy and I will finally get a do-over on that 4th date. Maybe we'll even make out in the bathroom while we're on that date. And maybe, just maybe, 25 years from now while we're on our fantasy vaca we'll tip toe our old balls out to the Raleigh pool and go skinny dipping. I think I might like that very much. 
A shot of the "good old days"

Now, obviously I've never had a blow job. But I'll tell you, make this cake for yo man and you may be off the hook for a long, long time. It's THAT good. Right, right. You LOVE giving blow jobs. Well, good for you. You're such a hip chick and the best wife ever. Go you. Make the cake anyway.
This recipe is based on Prince William's groom's cake. While watching the coverage of the royal wedding, the commentators were talking about this chocolate biscuit cake, and I couldn't get it out of my head. I googled it and came upon several different recipes. Here's my spin on it. 6 months later, I FINALLY made it for Jeremy's birthday yesterday. And, PS, totally redeemed myself for being a whiny baby bitch on our disaster date the other night. OK, here we go:
2 bags of Milano cookies 
1 bag (12 oz) of semi sweet choc chips
2 tbsp butter
2/3 c of cream, 1/2 & 1/2, whole milk (whatever's in the fridge for your coffee, I used 1/2 & 1/2
1/2 bag (6 oz) of semi sweet choc chips (always good to have a half bag of choc chips on hand for potty training. Or in case of a chocemergency for yourself. Better than downing a pint of Ben and Jerry's)
1 tbsp butter
1/3 c of cream, milk, whatever
Break up 25 Milano cookies in thirds. Set aside in medium bowl. That's 5 layers of the little fluted cups. 3 come in each bag. Reserve the remains of the second bag for a future breakdown/celebration/bath/Wednesday afternoon nap treat. Set aside. Spray a 6-8" springform pan with cooking spray. Set aside. Bring butter and cream to a boil in a small saucepan. Remove from heat. Pour over choc chips and stir until smooth. Fold in cookie pieces until well coated. Pour into pan. Cover with foil and refrigerate for 3 hours, minimum.
After 3 hours... prepare remaining chips (6 oz), butter (1 tbsp), and cream (1/3c) the same way as before. Pour chocolate mixture over set cake and refrigerate for another hour. 
Enjoy! Small slices are ok. This cake is SERIOUS.
These wings are so simple and so awesome. You can feel good about the fact that they're not deep fried. However, they are baked with a stick of butter! Oh well! Its not like you're eating them everyday! Enjoy at 4 am or anytime. Eat plain or with your fave sauce.
4 lbs chicken wings and drummies, just wings, just drummies, your preference.
1 stick of butter
seasoned salt (I use Lawry's)
Preheat over to 450 degrees.
Pat chicken dry with a paper towel.
Place wings in large baking dish or split between two. Shake with seasoned salt. Melt butter in saucepan or microwave for 30 seconds. Pour over chicken. Bake for 40 minutes till brown and crispy. (It's the combo of patting the chicken dry, the butter, the heat of the oven, and the bit of sugar in the seasoned salt that make these so super crispy without the deep fat fry.)
I like mine plain, or sometimes I dip in hot sauce on the side. Other options are:
*Toss in your fave BBQ sauce.
*Whisk together 1/2 c spicy brown mustard with 1/2 honey and 1tsp red pepper flakes. Toss. Sweet and spicy!
*Whisk together 1/2c hot sauce (I like Frank's, Sriracha, or Cholula), 1/2 c orange marmalade, 1tsp garlic powder, 1/2 tsp ground ginger. Toss. Sprinkle with chopped scallions.
Just a couple of suggestions, but get creative! You can even go buy a cheap plastic pitcher at a restaurant supply or party store, fill with slightly warm, slightly flat beer and serve! Recreate a SUPER romantic night. LOL. 


  1. The cake sounds amazing! I definitely want to make that for Mike at some point. God I used to love Milanos.

    Btw, your website is calling me Marty for some reason. It's Lyndsey, but I can see how your dad and I would be confused.

  2. I remember the days...3 day turnarounds wandering the maze of Venice, Italy, hand in hand with the man I love. Not. a. care. in. the. world. :::sigh:::

    Hoping the husband doesn't mind the trade when I serve the cake ;-)