We’re big on birthdays in our house.  I’m not entirely sure why.  Perhaps it’s a direct function of the proximity of Kate Margaret and Carter’s birthdays.  My little Irish twins are exactly 51 weeks apart which lends quite well to a whole week of celebrating.  Of course, I planned having them perfectly spaced as such…a mere ploy to indoctrinate the family into my concept of “birthday week”.

We kick off the celebratory week with Carter’s birthday, then 7 days later, it’s Kate’s big day.  The six days in between (the sandwich days) are all about celebrating my babies and cultivating their relationship with each other.  I love it.  A whole LOT.  “Birthday week” is just as much for me as it is for them.  It’s as if permission has been granted to indulge in treats of the edible and emotional kind.  The edible speaks for itself.  For the record, chocolate is usually involved.  The emotional piece refers to a license to get extra ooey, gooey with love and affection. This goes much deeper than extra hugs, cuddles and kisses.  Frankly, I have no idea how I could possibly shower them with more affection.  They might just have to beat me off with a stick when they get to the age where they are, dare I say it…embarrassed by moi and my affections.

The emotional piece has to do with having intent behind your actions and words.  Because I get a full week of celebrating their births, I am much more reflective about their presence as little human beings, how we’ve shaped each other’s souls and our journey together thus far.   I slow down enough (a rarity) to take stock, count my blessings, and laugh about my tumultuous first year with two babies.  I even go to the place that is tucked deep down into the far right corner of my heart… Remembering a time when they were just a glimmer of hope and never giving up that hope in the midst of recurrent heartbreak.

Birthday Week lets me soak in my memories of their itty-bittyness… because, well, it’s gone for all intensive purposes.  Long gone.  Say-on-ara.   And yes, they’re still little, but they are talking, walking, and already throwing a little ‘tude my way.  For Pete’s sake, they are using words like “actually”, “gorgeous”, and “exhausted”.  Okay, it’s mostly Kate using those words, but you get the picture.  It’s all flying by.  At warp speed nonetheless.   My appendages are less appendage-like nowadays.  Sure it’s exhilarating too see all they’re evolving into, but there’s an element of sadness as you say bye-bye to another momentous year.

So I created our own family holiday season of sorts: Birthday Week.  And it is with much gusto that I wholeheartedly revel in all that makes them uniquely them during our very own, self-proclaimed week.

Now you might think my “birthday week” concept cool or a tidge silly.  Hold onto your hats, it gets better.  Enter the  “half-birthday” concept.  You heard me right: Half-Birthday.  With all the hoopla over birthdays, did you really think I’d let a half-birthday slide on by without a little pomp and circumstance?  I like to think of it this way…my children get ONE childhood.  I want it steeped in family tradition.  I want it to rock.  Nevermind that by the time they’re 10 they might think I’m lame.  Means I get several more years of this nonsense involving the fabrication of celebrations!  Aside from that, since their birthdays are in January, the incessant rain that is good-ole-Portland puts a damper on things.  So I say: Hooray for half-birthdays!

And that’s just what we did last week.  Carter turned 2 1/2, and then exactly one week later, my daughter Kate Margaret turned 3 1/2.

By no means did we do the whole “birthday week” shebang for their half-birthdays.  My husband thinks that I’m confusing the kids.  Naww.  Two words: Party Pooper.  It’s merely a celebration with a freshly baked cake that features, drumroll…BERRIES.  That’s the beauty of a celebration in July.  Nature ripened, local, eat-till-your-stomach-hurts, you-can-never-go-out-to-the-u-pick-berry-farms-enough, Oregon-tastic: BERRIES.  Now doesn’t that sound like a compelling reason for a July half birthday?

After all, life is short and finding reasons to celebrate make it much more interesting and delicious.

On that note, this is our half-birthday, ode to berries, celebratory cake.  This is not your typical birthday cake.  Not overly sweet, incredibly moist from the ricotta and yogurt, and a natural sweetness and rusticity from the cornmeal…all enhanced by the star of the show: blueberries picked at the peak of ripeness.

Blueberry Cornmeal Ricotta Cake

1 1/3 cups all purpose flour

2/3 cups yellow cornmeal

2 teaspoons baking powder

2 teaspoons baking soda

6 tablespoons vegetable oil

2 large eggs

1-tablespoon vanilla extract

1-teaspoon agave

10 tablespoons unsalted butter (1 ¼ sticks), room temperature

¾ cup plus 3 tablespoons sugar, divided

1 ½ teaspoons salt

1-cup ricotta cheese

1/3 cup Greek yogurt

3 cups fresh blueberries

Preheat oven to 325 degrees.   Spray 10-inch diameter springform pan with 2 ¾” high sides with nonstick spray.  Whisk flour and next 3 ingredients (all the dry ingredients) in medium bowl.  Whisk oil, eggs, vanilla and agave in another medium bowl.  With a mixer, beat butter, all but 1 tablespoon sugar, and salt until creamy.

With mixer running on medium, gradually add egg mixture; beat to blend.

Beat in flour mixture just to blend.   Add ricotta and yogurt; beat on low speed just to blend.

Pour half of batter into prepared pan.

Scatter half of the blueberries over.  Spoon remaining batter over in dollops, then spread gently to cover berries.  Scatter remaining blueberries over.  Sprinkle 1-tablespoon sugar over the top.

Bake cake until top is golden brown and tester inserted into center comes out clean, about 1 hour 15 minutes.  If the cake starts to get too dark, cover the top with foil.  Cool completely in pan on rack.  Alden’s Organic Vanilla Ice Cream was the perfect summer side to our dessert.

Thanks for reading!