Bacon for my birthday

4 Mar

“Hannah, what are you going to get Mommy for my birthday?”  I asked Hannah.

“Bacon.” She said.

Me: “Bacon?”

Hannah: “Mmmm” (yeah).

Me: “Ok, how about we go out to breakfast on my birthday and you can get me some bacon with my breakfast?”

Hannah (very excited, bouncing up and down and smiling): “MMMMMM!” (Yeah).

Today is my 28th birthday (well, if WordPress knows I’m in Australia it is, otherwise yesterday was my birthday).  As you read this, I will be on holiday with Aaron and Hannah, enjoying my breakfast that includes bacon, probably with a view of the beach, hopefully in the sunshine.

In honour of my birthday, my Mom, Lois,  is doing a guest blog, about (you guessed it) ME!


Sheri’s First Birthday

For some reason that I cannot fathom, Sheri was a pudgy little baby.  Like a number of other relatives, she was quite a picky eater.  In fact she ate so little I had to wean her earlier than I wanted because she didn’t even nurse enough to keep the breast milk fresh (note from Sheri: EWWWWW).  Quite unlike her brother Chris, who ate everything in site and always thought he should have a second dinner when we ate even though he had already had his dinner.  And yet he was never a fat child.

Sheri didn’t grow very fast, probably due to the lack of nutrition since she wouldn’t eat much of anything.  She wore newborn size clothes for nearly six months.  Her feet on the other hand, they grew like weeds.  She always needed new shoes.  She wore little patent leather shoes with her frilly little dresses.  And the pudgy little tops of her feet puffed out all around the straps of her shiny little shoes.  There weren’t a lot of choices on shoe styles though, so that’s what she got.  She kept up her poor eating habits until she went to Australia as a foreign exchange student her senior year of high school. She left with her famous last words, “It’s only for six months.” (Note from Sheri: Well, you said I could go if I paid for it.  Should have known better!!!!)

Not wanting to insult her host family, she tried all sorts of things she had always insisted she didn’t like without ever trying them.  What do you know, she liked a lot of them after all.  All those years she could have eaten better if she had cared about insulting me.  But no, she turned her nose up at my cooking and ate turkey wieners or macaroni out of a box.  Except sweets of course, she did love sweets.  Her first Halloween, she ate everything as soon as she got it.  Chris went home with a bag of candy.  Sheri went home with a tummy ache.

Sheri’s first birthday rolled around. In those days I had the time, motivation, and energy to actually bake birthday cakes.  Not just any cake, I had a book on cut-up cakes that showed how to make all sorts of animals and things.  For her first birthday I made her an elephant cake.  I couldn’t tell you now why I chose an elephant all those years ago, but it does seem fitting for a fat little baby.  With all those cut edges of cake exposed, not just any frosting will do.  I made a fluffy white 7-minute frosting in a double boiler.  White cakes also worked best for this in case any crumbs got into the frosting.  Except once when I made a castle, then all the chocolate crumbs mixed into the white frosting made it look a lot more real than plain white ever would.  Back to the subject though, she had a white elephant cake covered in pink-tinted coconut.

I don’t remember whether she understood the concept of blowing out her candle or not.  At least in those days she would have gotten the chance to try.  When the kids got older, their dad freaked about all the germs people blow on a cake and made the kids wave the candles out with their hand.  It is kind of gross when you think about it, somebody blows any germs they might have all over something that everyone else eats. A little spittle here and there to top it off, yummy. (Sheri’s note: Wait a second, I thought YOU were the germ-a-phobe Mom?)

Sheri loved that cake.  She stuffed it into her mouth with her pudgy little fingers.  She grabbed great gobs and smeared it all over her face.  She needed a bath by the time she finished eating her cake.  What’s this?  After washing all the cake off her face, a bright red rash appeared.  Whether it was the cake, the frosting or the coconut I don’t know, but for her first birthday we gave her a big red rash.  Well she got presents too, but all these years later I don’t remember what was in the boxes.  The rash I can’t forget.  Good thing it wasn’t permanent.  Whatever her gifts contained probably wasn’t nearly as nice as what Hannah got for her first birthday.  We didn’t have a lot of money when Sheri was little.  Our vacations at the time consisted of camping in relatively local areas.  We lived in a single-wide mobile home, so its official, Sheri is trailer trash.  No wonder she ran off to Australia as soon as she possibly could.  (Sheri’s note: I went to Australia because I always felt I was supposed to, like there was something there I needed.  I wasn’t running away.  And look what happened, there was something here for me, Aaron!)


guest blog by LB, Cruise Ship Blogger

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

3 Responses to “Bacon for my birthday”

  1. LB(cruiseshipblogger) March 4, 2011 at 3:26 pm #

    What, you didn’t like my captions? I personally think the one you put on the one of you & Chris in the chair is pretty boring compared to my “Who needs cake, we have fingers!”

    • Sheri (Mommy Stuff Blogger) March 9, 2011 at 12:55 pm #

      I forgot there were captions, I had to download all the pictures separately, put them in a folder and then download them to wordpress, and with my baby brain, I wasn’t


  1. The No-Cry Picky Eater Solution « - December 31, 2011

    […] to say, I did not want Hannah to be like me.  Sure, I eat healthy now (The first time I told my parents I ate a stir fry with about 10 different vegetables in it, they […]

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: