Fixing the World

Stress affects me two ways. There's the kind where I'm pulling out my hair going nuts and freaking out. Then there's the kind that manifests itself as sadness and fear. This week has been filled with sadness and fear. But this story includes cupcakes so I hope you will be inspired to keep reading anyway...

From February 2009

The road I travel this week is wet and I hate it. Normally I love the rain. Rain is fresh. Rain is crisp. Rain smells good. Rain is cuddly and cozy. Rain means kids sipping hot chocolate and my husband cuddling a little closer in bed at night. Rain means the plants are fed and life goes on. But I can't see that this week.

Last weekend, a Cub Scout parent passed away in his sleep. He was only 41-years-old. He leaves behind a wife and two young sons, the same ages as Sweet But Sneaky and Captain Stubborn. His death has touched many families in our community. His family was very active in their church and scouts and it seems everywhere I turn there is someone else who is impacted by this death. And around our community, dads are sad and scared for their families, moms are sad and scared for themselves, and children are sad and confused and asking their parents what happens next? What would happen to them if their parents died?

Tomorrow I will attend his funeral and I know I will shed hundreds of tears for the widow, my friend, my sons' friends, my sweet little Wolf scout, his precious brother, and the tears of fear will pour out along with them.

And then life goes on, but as I turned around today, there was even more sadness, in a very strange way. At the risk of sounding totally callous, there was more personal loss for me today. Our local Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf is closing.

As busy and corporate and cold as living in a metropolitan suburb in 2009 can be, people are still people. The Coffee Bean in my neighborhood was people. I can tell you the name of every person that works there - and they can tell you not only my name but my order. I was a regular during the week to the point that when the staff saw my car pull up in the parking lot, they would often make a game of making my drink before I even walked into the door to order it. One time DaddyDoc wanted to treat us on a weekend. The girl at the cash register, G, looked at him and said "Aren't you PerkyMommy's husband? Does she want her regular?" He did not even have to give her my order.

CS loves the Coffee Bean. Where sugar often turns Mr. Genius into Mr. Hyde, a chocolate milk could turn CS into the sweetest happiest little boy who was more than happy to accompany Mommy on hours worth of boring errands. On days when he wanted to kiss up, CS learned that if he got up, got himself dressed with shoes and socks all by himself, he could sweet talk Mommy into ordering him a chocolate milk. Sometimes I would save it for a Friday treat and he'd tell me "Today's Friday! I get chocolate milk!" This December he discovered Peppermint and started to order his chocolate milks with Peppermint. This morning, the last school day morning we will have at Coffee Bean, he ordered a warm chocolate with peppermint. The girl who made it for him, V, wrote "I'LL MISS YOU!!" on the lid of his cup.

As I sat in the store this morning, I watched one customer after another come in and express their sadness. Some of the crew came in this morning just to hang out, for the opportunity to say good-bye to the regulars. Many of the customers, like me, said that we would simply no longer be buying coffee in the morning. None of us want to shop at the competition. If we wanted green straws, there are many, many stores we could visit. Within visual distance of the Coffee Bean, there are no fewer than four green straw locations. One with a drive thru, one without, one in a grocery store and one inside Le Tarjay. But none of them will see a penny from me. I don't like their coffee. And they cannot pronounce or even remotely spell my name. 

I learned that Mr. Genius's teacher also cried this morning when she learned that CBTL is closing. The CBTL in her neighborhood closed some time ago and she, like another woman I spoke with in the store this morning, drove to "our" location because this was where we wanted to be.

This morning, Daddy Doc drove himself into work and stopped by CBTL. It was the manager who told DaddyDoc about the closing. He thanked Doc for "your family's support of our business." We were not supporting a business. We were supporting our community and they were supporting us with their smiles, their service, their peppermint syrup, their coffee. Heck, last Spring when I needed to help my Tiger Cubs make straw oboes, the Coffee Bean supported us with a pile of purple straws. 

My community is losing jobs. My community is losing a piece of its people.

As these things are hitting me, and my friends are dealing with health crises in their families and our family is facing the stresses of raising brilliant but spirited children and airplanes are crashing into homes, I am sad and scared. So last night I realized that when I am sad and scared and need to feel productive to cope, I bake.

From February 2009

I believe this is a desperate attempt on my part to control my surroundings. I baked 8 dozen mini red velvet cupcakes last night. My initial thought was that this weekend, when Doc and the big boys will be camping in the snow, I would make these for the very first time, to treat them upon their return on Sunday. But if I did that, I would not be able to give any away. And part of my pathology is that I need to give them away.

This morning, after taking the big boys to school and hugging the Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf staff, I came home to make cream cheese frosting and decorate the cupcakes. It was glorious. Something this week finally went right. I added just a tad of milk to the frosting so that it would "pipe" well and I went to town, frosting 8 dozen cupcakes in no time flat, and sprinkling them with a variety of colored sugars and sprinkles. I even had special blue and green sprinkles for the boys' whose favorite colors are blue and green.

From February 2009

I filled paper plates with cupcakes, carried them out to my car in a half-sheet pan and a big styrofoam rectangle left over from a recent printer purchase. The PerkyMommyMobile hit the sad and wet road in a desperate attempt to manipulate the world. Maybe if I give people cupcakes, they will feel better about losing their jobs. I cannot make the stupid big corporate save my store but can I make them feel better? 

From February 2009

I took two plates to the school. One plate I left for the office and custodial staff to share. I need the office staff to love me forever. When it comes to choosing my children's teachers, granting independent study contracts, being benevolent in discipline situations, using the school facilities for Cub Scouts, I need to keep them all as happy as I can.

I took a plate to Mr. Genius's teacher and asked her to share them with the teachers who work with MG. He's been giving them quite a run for their money lately and I need to kiss up to them as much as I can. She laughed at me and promised to deliver them.

I went back to the Coffee Bean and the place was crawling with corporate rat bastards. I made it very clear that the cupcakes are NOT for any corporate RBs. The staff I know laughed and promised not to share with them. As I left the manager who had thanked Doc earlier emphatically thanked me. I just wish I could do more.

From February 2009

I have some more cupcakes to pass out. I did visit the hair salon where I get my hair cut. There's a long story there that I will spare you except to say that the owner of the salon is extremely gracious. My hair dresser has only worked at this location a short time. The owner has two sons the ages of MG and CS. Whenever I need to get my hair cut, my boys are welcome to hang out. It is a sweet charming salon and they have a television and even video games among the shabby chic decor. I feel completely and utterly serene and peaceful even with my loud crazy group storming the shop. I gave a cupcake to my hair dresser, who is, of course, also a friend, and three to the owner. One for her, one for her preschooler and one for her older boy who is in school today. 

From February 2009

Maybe if I give out enough cupcakes people won't die and businesses won't close and the world can go on and I won't have to feel sad anymore. (And I think I'm getting better at taking pictures of baked goods. Don't you think so?)

From February 2009

If cupcakes could fix the world, I would be at Smart and Final right now buying that gallon sized jug of red food coloring. You know I would.