By Fourth of July. Year three. My holiday now, fully claimed. I grilled ribs (my recipe, perfected from Scott's, improved with a brown sugar glaze he never thought of), made Mom's baked beans, corn on the cob, and a watermelon salad with feta and mint that is so far from ranch food that Diane would disown me if she tasted it, but which is delicious and I will not apologize for evolving.
Brett and Claire came. Carol came. Jen came — first time at my house, bringing her two kids (Aiden, 8, and Sophie, 5), who immediately integrated with Mason and Lily in the way children integrate: through running, screaming, and the shared consumption of popsicles. The backyard was full. Six adults, four children, one three-legged dog, and enough food for twice that number, because I cook like Diane: more is always better, and leftovers are a gift.
Mason did the sparklers. Confidently now, tracing his full name in fire against the dark sky: M-A-S-O-N. Lily tried her first sparkler this year — she held it at arm's length and shrieked, not from fear but from delight, the shriek of a four-year-old discovering that she can hold fire in her hand and not get burned. A lesson for life, if you think about it.
Jen and I sat on the porch after the fireworks and drank wine while the kids fell asleep in the living room in a pile of blankets and popsicle sticks. She said, "You're really good at this." I said, "At what?" She said, "At building a life that's good. Not just surviving. Good." I thought about it. She's right. I've moved past surviving. I'm living now. The transition was so gradual I almost didn't notice, but Jen noticed, because new friends see you clearly in a way that family can't — family sees who you were; friends see who you are.
The ribs were the best I've ever made. I'm saying it. Better than Scott's. The brown sugar glaze was my innovation and it caramelized perfectly and the meat fell off the bone and Brett had three racks and said, "These are better than Scott's," and I said, "I know," and we clinked beer cans and the night was warm and the sky was exploding and my ribs were better than my ex-husband's, and if that isn't independence, I don't know what is.
The popsicle sticks scattered across my living room floor at midnight told the whole story — Aiden, Sophie, Mason, and Lily had no idea that the adults on the porch were drinking wine and having the kind of quiet, clarifying conversation that changes how you see yourself. I made two batches this year: one without the booze for the kids, and one very much with it for the rest of us. It felt right. The whole night was like that — sweet things in both versions, depending on where you were in life, and all of it worth celebrating.
Boozy Red White and Blueberry Cheesecake Popsicles
Prep Time: 20 minutes | Cook Time: 0 minutes | Total Time: 4 hours 20 minutes (including freeze time) | Servings: 10 popsicles
Ingredients
- 8 oz cream cheese, softened
- 1 cup whole milk plain Greek yogurt
- 1/3 cup powdered sugar
- 1 tsp pure vanilla extract
- 3 tbsp raspberry liqueur (such as Chambord) or 3 tbsp additional yogurt for a non-boozy version
- 1 cup fresh strawberries, hulled and diced small
- 1 cup fresh blueberries
- 1/4 cup graham cracker crumbs (optional, for base layer)
Instructions
- Make the cheesecake base. Beat the softened cream cheese with a hand mixer until smooth and fluffy, about 2 minutes. Add the Greek yogurt, powdered sugar, and vanilla extract. Beat again until fully combined and creamy with no lumps.
- Add the booze (optional). Stir in the raspberry liqueur if making the adult version. For a kid-friendly batch, simply omit it — the base is delicious either way.
- Layer the popsicles. Spoon a layer of diced strawberries into the bottom of each popsicle mold (about 1 tbsp). Spoon cheesecake mixture on top until the mold is about half full. Add a layer of blueberries. Fill the remainder with cheesecake mixture. Tap the molds gently on the counter to release air bubbles.
- Add the sticks. Insert popsicle sticks into the center of each mold. If the mixture is too soft to hold the stick upright, freeze for 30 minutes first, then insert the sticks.
- Freeze. Freeze for at least 4 hours, or overnight, until completely solid.
- Unmold and serve. Run warm water briefly over the outside of the molds for 10–15 seconds to release. Serve immediately, or wrap individually in plastic wrap and return to the freezer for up to two weeks.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 135 | Protein: 4g | Fat: 8g | Carbs: 11g | Fiber: 1g | Sodium: 85mg