I interpreted that as there is no good news people, we are going down.

I gave a little bit of a start when I read these words sent this morning to my personal e-mail account.

As a mom, I am always reassuring my children something - the sting of a hurt will ease, friends will tolerate differences of opinion, a new school will open doors. As a wife, I often tell my husband to hang in there. As a friend, I am fond of saying “things happen for a reason.”

Life happens, it always does. Just when we think we have a handle on what the world is going to give us, the smallest cosmic shift can create a vertigo of the soul.

For a few weeks now, my self has not been aligned. Call me Two-Face: One part excited and overjoyed about the new school my children are attending this year, one part emotionally nostalgic walking away from a neighborhood school we waited for and watched be built.

These words, this morning, were just what I needed. It will be OK.

Each month my hopes surge with the possibility of life.

Each month we try.

Each month I look across our table at dinner and see an extra chair that should be filled. I picture another child sitting there filled with innocence as he tries to make his brother laugh.

Each month the chair stays empty.

Each month I look up my due date and mentally plan my life around it.

Each month that date comes and goes without a plan needed.

Each month I give my 4 year old an extra hug when I realize how lucky we are.

Each month I look at him in sadness mentally apologizing to him that he will never experience a sibling.

Each month we go through more tests and the outcome is always the same, there is nothing wrong.

Each month another friend announces their pregnancy.

Each month I consider my apathy to religion and silently say a prayer.

Each month I am closer to 40 which is the age we will no longer try.

Each month my heart tugs so hard I think I need to hold it in place.

Each month I cry alone in the bathroom when I realize another month is gone.

Each month is as painful as the last.

Butter, flour and sugar.

Hot oven.

Sweet smell fills the house.

Steam rises as vanilla bean ice cream melts into tasty crevices.

“Mommy, can I have dessert?”

Yes, yes you can.

With whip cream on top.

The CDPH is recommending that all Californians make sure that they are immunized, especially if they are in contact with infants. (It’s potentially fatal to babies under 12 months.) Check out the new recommendations at CDPH.Ca.gov.

Vaccination is the best defense, but immunization wears off over time, and the number of adolescents and adults getting their pertussis boosters has dropped in recent years. As a result, pertussis is circulating widely in California, putting infants who are too young to get their shots at serious risk.

Riley: I told Ms Mary (preschool teacher) I love her.
Me: That is so sweet Riley.
Riley: But Dad didn’t tell Ms Mary he loves her.
Me: Well…dads don’t tell teachers they love them unless they want to be single.
My husband: Nice.
Me: Actually dads may tell other mommies they love them if they live in Utah.
My husband: Dear God.
Me: I am pretty sure the loving dads in Utah think God wants them to spread the love around.
My husband: I refuse to take the school’s calls.

1) Preheat oven to 350. In a 9×13 pan, mix together:

• 3 cups flour
• 2 cups sugar
• 1/3 cup cocoa
• 2 teaspoons baking soda

2) Make three crater-like holes in the mixture. Pour one wet ingredient in each hole:

• 1/2 cup oil
• 2 teaspoons vanilla
• 2 tablespoons apple cider vinegar

3) Pour 2 cups of water over the entire mixture, and mix until batter is smooth.

4) Bake for 30-35 minutes or until toothpick comes out clean.

5) Optional: to make icing, mix powdered sugar and water (or milk) in a plastic baggie. Cut off a small tip from one corner, and use like a pastry bag to decorate the cake. I like my slice topped with fresh strawberries and blackberries from the farmers’ market!

And, thanks to a cleaning time of almost zilch, you can spend more time enjoying the fruits of your family’s labor. Happy eating!

PS - You may have noticed that this recipe is vegan-friendly. You can also substitute apple sauce for the oil to make it even healthier.

Once upon a time there was a donkey named Jack who was married to Jenny. Jack was schmarmy, wore gold chains, button up shirts with the top 4 buttons undone to show off his chest hair and he was short.

Jack met Whinny. Whinny lived in a pasture of wildflowers with butterflies and frogs. She had a long beautiful blond mane and tail. She never had an original thought other than “oh, that flower is pretty” or “wow, grass is green”. You couldn’t trust Whinny not to smell the scratch-n-sniff sticker at the bottom of the pool.

Well, Jack decided he had to have that. He courted Whinny, invested in a ladder and next thing you know, a long eared, smart, stout abomination appeared. God was not happy. He came down from the heavens furious that Jack had blurred the line between the species. He declared that all progeny of the jack/whinny union would be forever sterile.

That is where mules come from.

(Jackass comes from Jenny finding out Jack cheated on her. She whipped his ass all over the county. Sold all his crap at a garage sale and took him to court for all he was worth. California is a community property state. I hear she is now living on a lavender farm in Northern California with a small family of goats.)

Story by Samantha Brown, single mother, volunteer firefighter, EMT, bookstore manager, part-time librarian, farm worker and future inappropriate children’s book author if the other 5 jobs don’t pan out.