Easter Cookies 2024

You know how my boys always try to mess up holiday cookie decorating? Like if I make Halloween cookies, they reshape them to look like Christmas or Valentine cookies? This year I decided to beat them at their own game. When they saw this year’s batch of Easter cookies, look on their evil little faces was priceless:

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They got right to work.

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Here’s Kevin’s best creation:

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Here’s Vincenzo’s interpretation of the egg the Easter bunny hatched from before dying on a cross for our sins:

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Even I got in on the action this year!

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I did make a few actual carrot shaped cookies because every year, Vincenzo does his best attempt to decorate one correctly, and I wanted him to have that win before he goes off to college. This year’s would have been great…

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…if it weren’t actually a Christmas light.

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The actual carrot cookie cutters got reinterpreted as the sides of the Batmobile.

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Rocco really outdid himself this year!

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So those were this year’s Easter cookies. To show how far I’ve fallen, this is the tray of cookies I brought to Easter brunch five years ago:

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And here is this year’s tray:

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Happy Easter anyway, from all the Mouthies and also our cats.

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It’s embarrassing what they’ll do for a treat!

TSA (no, not that one)

For the past few months, Rocco has been working full tilt on TSA. Not the airport kind of TSA; the one that stands for Technology Student Association, which is kind of like Olympics of the Mind (which is now called Odyssey of the Mind).  There are a bunch of teams that make or do something for a big competition—everything from children’s stories to fashion design; from computer programming to silent films.

Meetings started in January. The kids were required to attend an after-school meeting every Monday, with optional meetings before school at 6:30, and an optional meeting after school on Thursdays. Can you guess how many meetings Rocco went to?

All of them. He went to all of them. Rocco is what you might call driven. You might also call it some other things, but let’s stick with driven.

He was on five teams: game design, trebuchet, tech bowl (like a knowledge bowl), systems control tech (where they’re given a box of parts and told to build a specific thing), and robotics. Of all these, game design was his favorite. He and his team made a game called Shift, where each level unlocks a shape that has special abilities, all of which are needed to fight the Evil Square at the end of the game. Often after coming home from a ten-hour day of TSA plus school, Rocco would eat a quick dinner then get back to work on coding. Most weekends he had his team over for 8-hour work days in the basement. They ate so many Oreos, Nabisco could have been their team sponsor. They were peeing straight LaCroix at the end of those days.

After months of toil and troubleshooting, suddenly (finally!), the competition was here. I dropped Rocco and a bunch of kids off at the hotel and recognized the feeling in the air instantly, from all the competitions I did growing up. Forget the “playing for fun” feel of our the boys’ rec soccer games. This–this feeling I knew! Anxious excitement, teenage hormones, and the confidence that out of a crowd of hundreds, I would rise to the top. I mean Rocco would rise to the top. It was intoxicating.

Later that evening, Rocco texted that he forgot his nice shoes at home and could I please drive them down? I asked what he’d do for me in return, and he said, “Win first place.” Then he realized he forgot his laptop too, so I said now he also had to yell, “Hot diggity dog!” when he won first place. While we were (mostly) joking, everyone from the advisors to the other two game design teams from his school knew that Shift was something special.

So it was especially heartbreaking when the next morning the judges posted preliminary scores and Shift didn’t even make the top ten. To rub salt in the wound, the other two teams from his school did. Rocco cried. Strong, tough, resilient Rocco cried.

Their advisor went to investigate. Surely, there was some mistake? The other moms and I got busy trying to find out exactly who judged the video games and exactly where they lived, and also planning a Shift-themed party for when the team returned. As the day went on and the text saying it was all a big mistake didn’t come, our hopes of Shift winning dwindled, then disappeared. I kept picturing Rocco seeing the scores posted, searching for their team number, not seeing it, searching again. I kept feeling the emotions he must have felt: shock, then confusion, then devastation. I imagined his heart, broken in pieces on a tacky hotel carpet.

Then later that night, he sent me this picture from the fashion show, and I stopped worrying about his heart.

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To be sure, he was not officially in the fashion show, but he and his friends had made a creation of their own, and Rocco was allowed up on stage to model it. He texted me: “The crowd went wild.”

That’s Rocco for you.

The awards ceremony was Saturday. We went there hoping Rocco would at least make it on the stage for trebuchet, which was his second best event. And he did. Second place!

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…and then again for systems control (second place), robotics (third place) and tech bowl (first place!!).

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Hot diggity dog!

Rocco returned full of stories, like how for systems control, his team had to build a parking garage that allowed in only three cars at a time, and each car had to be a different color. “That one wasn’t too challenging,” he added. He told of how their robot stopped working minutes before the competition, so he talked with the judges to find there was one remaining spot, 20 minutes later. He discovered the motor had burnt out, then remembered they had an extra motor in their systems control box so he sprinted to that room and back and got the robot working with minutes to spare. For tech bowl, they were seeded 12 out of 12, but they annihilated two of the top teams to make it to the championship, which they won on a triple tie-breaker question.

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He had funny stories, too, like how when they were trying to go to sleep, one of his roommates kept saying, “Skibbidy” at random intervals, and how they put all of a different roommate’s stuff in the mini fridge, and how his friend cannonballed into his team’s cardboard boat during the just-for-fun competition.

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As soon as we got home, I thought Rocco would crash into bed. But instead, he headed downstairs to start working on the sequel to Shift. His suitcase wasn’t even unpacked yet.

That’s Rocco for you.

Wild Girls’ Weekend

For the first time in over 20 years, I got on a plane all by myself. Me! The one who uses Starbucks stores as a navigational tool. Me! The one who once had a panic attack on a plane and jumped over three rows of passengers to get to Kevin when I saw another plane in the sky. Me! The one who can’t lead the family through the mall without accidentally veering down that one weird wing that has a Footlocker and a calendar store.

My family had slowly been preparing me for my first solo flight over the past couple years, letting me hold my own license at the security check, entering my own birthdate at the kiosk, and tying my own shoes after our bags were screened.

And I did it! I didn’t make a single wrong turn at the airport. I was amazing.

So what all this preparation and excitement lead to?

Mainly holding cats.

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And taking pictures of cats.

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Once, my friend accidentally got my picture of cats.

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But it’s okay because she was shredding chicken, which heralded the cats.

Over our weekend in St. Louis we went to a spa and improv theater; the botanical gardens and art museum. We took walks and made parmesan risotto. One afternoon we went out to lunch and no one even whined when we wanted to browse the home decor section afterwards.

And if you think that is wild, you should have heard our conversations we had about interesting books, compelling documentaries, and healthy recipes that everyone will enjoy.

Maybe “girls’ weekend” means something different when you’re in your late 40s vs early 20s? IDK, it was my first one.

My friends were kind enough to share some selfies so you have proof I did occasionally set the cats down.

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The return trip was just as easy as the journey there, except the part where I didn’t know how to get out of the airport and kept wandering between baggage carousels 10 and 14 like a wayward piece of luggage. But eventually I made it out, where Kevin was waiting with my favorite protein bars and a bottle of iced tea, partly because he loves me but also because now that I’m mobile, he’s worried he’s never going to see me again.

He doesn’t need to worry. I’ll be busy reading all those interesting books, watching the compelling documentaries, and trying out healthy new recipes for a while. I’m not going anywhere soon. Less than 20 years probably, but more than one year.

Probably.

Japan Randoms

It’s only been a week since my last post, but Japan seems ages ago. It feels less like I’ve just gotten off the biggest ride at the amusement park and more like I’m holding onto a warm mug of tea. One final post, and it will be time to start dreaming of our next vacation.

Speaking of tea…here’s a random picture from Obubu Farms. Feel free to offer interpretations in the comments.

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And here we have the tiniest of cream pitchers:

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This piece of art in our hotel looked like it was painted by Mr. Hanky, the Christmas poo:

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Here are some charming almost-correct translations:

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(It should be…but is it?)

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(Who know where they’ll be later!)

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I hear Nobember is lovely in the spring.

Here’s something you’d probably forgotten about:

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Vincenzo’s new “fit:”

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Something to make you cringe:

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And finally, the boys standing on a red bridge.

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So there you have it: ten days of sushi and green tea, temples and shrines, samurai museums and Imperial palaces, cherry blossoms, skyscrapers, trains, mochi, gacha gachas, plus an iconic red bridge. The only thing that was missing from our trip to give us the full Japan experience was an earthquake.

Oh wait, we had one of those too! A 4.6 on the Richter scale that made our hotel shake and started Rocco on an instant analysis of how big the earthquake was and where its epicenter was, as if he were some kind of expert. Irritatingly enough, he was pretty much right.

Welp, looks like we made it to the end of Japan. That leaves me sitting on the couch here, holding onto my metaphorical cup of  tea, hoping it stays warm long enough for me to make it to my next vacation, or a singular sunny day…whichever comes first!