All three of my kids were born within eight days of each other.
Different years, same week. So this week isn't one birthday, it's three: 28, 26, 22. I keep doing the math hoping it comes out different. It doesn't.
The birthdays don't look like they used to, either. Nobody wants a party. Nobody wants money to help fund a new pair of jeans or soccer cleats they're saving up for. Nobody's even home for me to make their favorite dinner. Where did all of it go?
I mailed each of them a gift and a card this year. It didn't feel like enough.
TODAY’S PICKS
THE FEATURE
Learning To Network.
She got laid off at 60 and had to learn the one skill she'd spent her whole career avoiding.
Selective Memory.
Why can I remember exactly what my boss said to me 25 years ago, but not the three things I needed from the grocery store this morning?
THE REFLECTION
Here We Are Again.
On choosing the same lake and the same cousins every summer instead of the exotic trip everyone else is posting, and what that stubborn repetition actually gives back.
THE WILDCARD
Under The Weather, Literally.
The phrase you've said a hundred times has a surprisingly nautical backstory.
If you know someone who'd love this, send it to them.
That's the whole ask.
There's something in it for you too.
Details below.
My answer:
It started as an easy no-bake birthday cake. Now it's the go-to dessert, whenever one's needed. They even asked for it again at Christmas.
