Hey Party-Makers,
It’s been a slow week so far in our household. After a good start to our weekend with a date night and then a double date night, sometime in the wee hours of Sunday morning my body decided to cave to the peer pressure of a seasonal cold. And people, when I get sick, it is just miserable for everyone involved (read: I’m a baby).
When I was growing up, I got sick a lot. And not your average 5-day cold. Like, 2 week marathons where my parents worried their hearts out thinking my fevers were going to fry my brains. It wasn’t fun for anyone. Because of that, I have a million and one home remedies for colds. And out of those million-and-one, I really only follow a few: homemade Caldo, herbal tea, consuming enough Emergen-C to make an arguable case for an IV of it, and I sleep and lounge it all off.
And normally, I’d be less of a baby than I’ve been this sick-week, except for the fact that yesterday was my Half-Birthday. And before you say, “half-birthdays aren’t a thing,” I’m going to stop you and tell you that you’re wrong. You see, I’ve been having my half-birthday celebrations since I was two and a half. Spoiled baby that I was, some time during my fluent terrible-twos (and after my real birthday) I told my Abuelita Molú that I wanted it to be my birthday. And so I had my first half-birthday party.
Sparkling great memory that I have (about things that concern parties + food), I’ve somehow managed to talk people into this celebration for the last 22 years. And as much as it might just seem like a celebration that is self-centered and narcissistic (I will admit there is a little of that in there), to me, it’s become a day to make intentional memories. It’s a tradition to take a day to stop and be thankful for the beautiful people in my life. A day when I intentionally eat good food across from people I love, and put on some silly celebration to say I’ve made it through another half year.
When I was pretty much a baby, I was diagnosed with a rare genetic disorder, the same one as my brother, and because of that every time I was sick all the alarms went off in my house. Even to this day when I call my mom and she doesn’t answer, I’m required to leave a voicemail to clarify that I’m not sick, hurt, or pregnant—just for her peace of mind. This genetic disorder hasn’t manifested itself in me in any serious ways as an adult, and I’m SO thankful for that. But I’ve had to learn to live a life that consistently fights fear with adventure, celebration, and joy-chasing. That’s an almost-everyday decision I have to make. And there have been days, and even seasons, where I’ve lived quietly in fear. Fear that my streak of health will one day be over. I’ve described it before as someone who knows they’ve been drafted in a war, but have no idea when they’re going to be called to the Front.
Living with FA has taught me to live with a sort of joy-chasing agenda that seems naive to some people. And it’s not at all that I’m trying to be an inauthentic person, and hide my emotions under this happy little blanket of celebration. My celebration is my coping mechanism. It’s the way that I challenge myself to see the good and beautiful things in my life. It pushes me to step outside of the fears that legitimately keep me up at night some days, and to not take the health I have for granted.
In the last couple of years, I’ve had to take ownership of my own health. I’ve had to find my own providers, and advocate for myself when I feel sick and want to be thoroughly cleared. I’ve had to keep a note open in my phone documenting any kind of weird things going on in my body, complete with the dates they started and ended, so that I can chat through them with my specialists. It’s made me overwhelmingly aware and thankful.
And it makes my half birthday that much more important to me.
Because another half year of health is a gift. It really is. There is always going to be enough yuck in life; things that bring you down, hurt you, challenge you. And I want to learn from those and be okay being in the lows, but I don’t want to dwell there. Remembering & celebrating all the adventures in between the 6-month span from my birthday to my half-birthday gives me so much life. So I want to keep celebrating this whim of mine that my family and friends have given into. I want to keep eating fancy food, and going to see beautiful things. I want to keep making space for the everyday little things that make life worth celebrating. Like healthy blood cells, and only getting sick once a year, and yummy soups, and a phone full of pictures of places and people that I love, and a season of creating and writing and pursuing this blog.
And call me crazy, but I think everyone needs this kind of intentional break in their lives. We need to slow down, and celebrate ourselves for where we’re at, and where we’ve been. We need to be okay with spending time taking care of ourselves and celebrating life with the people we love, more than just once a year. That’s what a half birthday is. It’s a chance to catch your breath in the busy and the crazy of life, and to be okay looking at who you are and feeling comfortable celebrating that beautiful being you’re becoming, for no reason, other than to take care of yourself and indulge in good food and company.
So I’ve decided this cold is not going to stop me.
We’ve postponed my half birthday restaurant outing until I’m totally decongested and can fully appreciate my food, but to make yesterday just a little fancy, I decided to make this cake. Now, this little half-cake is a very poor adaptation of Eat Love Eat’s Drop. Dead. GORGEOUS Tiramisu Cake with Ombre Frosting. Tiramisu has always been my weak spot, if I could only eat one dessert for the rest of my life, Tiramisu would be it. So this cake was really perfect for the occasion. I’ve simplified it a little because, well, I’m sick and couldn’t find caster sugar. And also, I didn’t have full energy to invest in the whole Ombre aesthetic yesterday morning.
My feelings won’t be hurt if you follow her step-by-step instructions instead of mine.
What I’ve changed:
I subbed from-scratch cake for boxed white cake, and added in the chocolate and coffee to my different layers. I also cut my cakes in half (as in making them into half circles) and layered them on top of each other, because you should only have a half cake on your half birthday right? Doing this made it extra tall, and the layers somewhat thin, BUT it was DELICIOUS. Benjamin was a pretty big fan of the whole thing. The coffee syrup, the cocoa dusting on top, and really, the star of this show: the mascarpone frosting.
We ate our huge slices on the couch last night, and I think that maybe tasting this delicious beauty is contributing to a much lighter sick day today. I mean, I got up and made breakfast this morning. Still haven’t put on real pants (I didn’t say it was miraculously good, people), but waking up and making food is always a victory during my sick time. It comes right before washing everything in my house, and then eventually leaving my house. We’ll get to those. But for now, I’m going to sit and celebrate my half-birthday +1 with another slice.
Mary-Beth Johnson
Mary-Beth is a creative, food-obsessed, Georgia transplant living Chicago. She is proudly and fiercely Latina, and more specifically Chapina. In her day to day she is a food educator to students around Chicagoland aged 3 to 80+, both virtually and in-person. She is passionate about cultivating the truth that every person has an understanding of food that deserves being brought to the table, and that time in the kitchen can be sacred, passionate, and an act of love for self and others. Outside the kitchen you can find her at the intersections of infertility, chronic illness, and a deep love for the dignity of all humans. She hopes to create a space that is holistic about the role of food in the social, political, relational, and physiological dynamics of our world.
