Birthday prep: The Frankencake

I love it when Drew is home because we get to feel like a real family.  Sofia is getting bigger, interacting more and it's so cool to see them together.  As much as I hate when he's gone, the glimpses I get when he's home remind me of what we have to look forward to once we're in the same city.  He was home all last week and it was so cool to have family time!

Showing Sofia what her blocks can do.  She prefers to just stick them together.  

However, when Drew is home my blogging seriously suffers.  The only time I can really write is at night after the baby is in bed.  But, at night after the baby is in bed is the only chance we have for Couple Time and I always feel guilty when I'm in the living room on my computer and he's in the bedroom on his iPad.  So, when Daddy's home, no blogging for Mommy.


Drew is gone this week so I'm back and I can tell you all about my Frankencake!  And how I nearly cut my finger off!  And how I'm going to attempt to hem my jeans and how I'm so nervous I would be hyperventilating from anxiety but I'm not because I'm on Zoloft now!


But since that would be a ridiculously long post, we'll just start with the cake.


My birthday was a couple of weeks ago and I had some of the moms over to hang out and help me celebrate.  It was so much fun and I really enjoyed spending time with them, and no celebration is complete without cake.  I'd been wanting to practice making Sofia's birthday cake so the night before everyone came over, I got started.

Because I am no baker, I bought box mix and canned icing.  Don't judge me.

Seriously, I am no baker.  I can't even open the package without making a mess.

This is my inspiration photo, from here via my Pinterest

PS, follow me already!  I need meal/clothing/crafty/house decorating ideas!

I saw this and laughed.  The best part about making cake is licking the bowl!

I started my cake after the baby went to bed, so that meant I couldn't use the electric mixer which may have been an issue, I'm not sure. Spoiler alert:  My cake did NOT turn out like my inspiration photo.

I got the bright idea to tint the cake using strawberries instead of food coloring because in my Googling, I read that too much food coloring could cause the cake to taste bitter.  Since I am no baker, that scared me away from food coloring because I would most assuredly end up using too much.  I mean, I can't even open a plastic bag properly!

However, the only strawberries we had on hand were frozen ones.  That required blending.  But the baby was asleep.  And I didn't want to wake her.  And I need to make my sentences longer.

I briefly considered taking the blender out to the garage, but that would require going outside at night which I quickly nixed because I'm afraid of the dark.  Nightime is when the werewolves and serial killers come to hide in your bushes and get you when you're taking your blender to the garage to make your baby's birthday cake.  Fact.

So I took the blender to the farthest point from the baby that was still inside the house.

I would have put the blender in the shower but the cord wasn't long enough.

I blended the strawberries, flipping it on and off hastily, holding my breath each time because I was sure the baby would wake up any second but thank the baby Jesus, she didn't.  However, the strawberries didn't blend smoothly because they were frozen, so I had to scrape out the chunky frozen mess and nuke it right quick to soften them.  I am no baker.

It worked though!

So, with my pans out and cake mix properly portioned, I brilliantly poured my strawberry puree into each pan.  I patted myself on the back for my genius.

French vanilla cake with strawberry flavoring - this is going to be so good!

Spoiler alert:  I probably shouldn't have gotten so excited.

Then I noticed that I didn't portion all that well since two of my pans had almost the same amount of filling, which meant they would be too close in color.  I didn't want to blend more strawberries, so I went looking for something else that was red.

Aha!  Raspberries are red!

A quick second in the microwave to liquefy it and in the pan!

I'm inventive!  I'm resourceful!  I'm a baking genius!

I popped them in the oven and briefly daydreamed about the beautiful cake I would present for my baby's birthday.  I'd walk out in my flowing skirt with my perfect hair and they would marvel at my skills!  Marvel!

I tried to find a brown housewife but there weren't any. 

What's up with that?

The timer went off and it was time to marvel at my masterpiece.

Umm, they all kind of look alike.  Crap.

By this time, it was like one in the morning and I was exhausted from all my baking so I shoved them in the fridge and went to sleep.  The next morning I awoke refreshed and unwilling to let a little thing like identical cakes get me down.  I took each cake out of the pan, flipped the pan over and set the cake on top so I could cut each layer to make them level.

The one farthest away had the preserves in it and apparently preserves will make your cake very dense.  Who knew?  Whatevs, that can be the bottom layer.

I started at 8 in the morning, the girls weren't supposed to be there until noon, I had plenty of time.  HA.  I am no baker.

It took FOREVER to cut the layers, feed the baby, change her diaper, walk around holding her because she was cranky, feed the dog, try and get dressed one-handed, pick up the house, vacuum and clean the bathroom.  That's why I didn't realize that you need two cans of icing if you're going to try and ice a five-layer cake.  

Did I have two cans of icing? Noooooo.  Did I realize that when I'd only iced the layers and still had the outside of the cake to do with fifteen minutes before everyone was supposed to arrive?  Yeeeeeeess.

So I grabbed the baby, put shoes on and ran to the grocery store and grabbed the two more cans of icing, just to be safe.  I thought I'd purchased two extra cans of buttercream icing, but of course I didn't.  I'd gotten one buttercream and one cream cheese icing but I was already home and the girls were coming in like two minutes.  Oh well!  Buttercream and cream cheese it is!

I have the best mom friends.  They ate my Frankencake with a smile on their faces.  It really didn't taste that bad because it was a French vanilla cake flavored with strawberries and buttercream/cream cheese icing.  None of those flavors are really overpowering and they sort of go together so it didn't completely suck.  It just didn't look quite like the picture.

Once again, for comparison.

I'm probably going to have someone else make her birthday cake.

Bautizo

Thanks for all your comments on my last post - don't you love a good discussion?  Plus, I'm glad we all kept it classy - I mean, as classy as you can keep it when talking about Bebe's kids.  PS, I'm so glad I wasn't the only one who knew what that was about!


But we must move on, because I have some more pretty pictures to show you.  They're not as nice as Amy Barry's, but that's because I am not a photographic genius and when I take a good picture, it's purely by accident.  Nonetheless, I'm happy I got some shots and I'd love to share them with you!


Sofia was baptized the same day we took her pictures for her birthday.  It was a big day for her and she was such a champ!  She even had the courtesy to explode her diaper between wardrobe changes and if that's not manners, I don't know what is!  I had taken her out of the pink dress and kept her tights on for her nap - I don't know if I'm thankful or not for that.  When she woke up, she smelled like she'd dropped a bomb in there.  Thank God for cloth diapers because it most certainly would have been up to her neck in a disposable!  It was up to the edge in the front and the back and her tights were helping to hold it in.  Well, when I went to take the tights off, the elastic caught on the diaper and poop flipped in my face.


I would like to say I ruefully laughed and calmly wiped it off but there was poop on my face.  Near my mouth.  I will spray a poopy diaper all day long, I'll scrub poopy clothes, but I draw the line at poop on my face and I sure as HELL don't want it near my mouth.


Drew literally cried from laughing so hard.  Ass.


However, I cleaned us both up with no further incident and we got her dressed for the baptism.  My mom brought the family dress with her and when I put the baby in it, she looked like a little angel!

Angels need to eat too.

We piled in the car and headed to church, talking to Drew's parents and Nate and Julie along the way.  I was so bummed that they couldn't be there, but Nate and Julie sent along the sweetest bracelet for Sofia.  

So sweet and delicate!

I was nervous that she would freak out in church after having such a long day, but I was able to keep her bribed with yogurt melts.  That kid will do anything for yogurt melts!

She was squirmy, but as soon as we got near the water she calmed down.

Baptism hair

This picture is my dream come true.  I've always dreamed of my husband holding a little girl in a pile of ruffles and lace and to see it in real life made me happier than I could have imagined.  There were so many times when I thought I'd never get to this place, yet here I am.  I am so very thankful and so incredibly blessed.

Lemme get that face

So, um, we're good here, right?  I'm ready to bounce.

Grandma and Grandpa are cool and all, but I'm ret ta go!

This was one of those major adult moments for me.  Most times I feel like I'm bumbling and barely muddling my way through things, but sitting there in church with my family really made me feel like a grown-up and I was completely content.  Church is magic like that - I've never not felt good when I've gone to church and it really makes me wonder why I don't do it more often.  

Then again, maybe Sofia and I will turn over a new leaf.  We've already been back to get our ashes - maybe she and I will go to church like I used to with my dad.  I have great memories of getting dressed on Sunday morning and holding his hand as we walked to church.  He used to give me my own quarter to put in the offering plate and I was so proud to drop my big money in the basket when it passed by.

We're so ashy.

Sorry, I couldn't resist.

Playgroup

Sofia was about five months old when I went to my first playgroup.  These groups are vital to a stay-at-home mom because day in and day out with a baby as your only company can get pretty isolating.  I'm super lucky that my neighborhood is home to the oldest PTA in Texas and once you're plugged in, you're money.  


But you can't just walk in a playgroup and be all 'Yo what's up!'  Oh no - there's a system, an etiquette, a process.  Luckily, I've gone before you and will now bestow my wisdom and then tell you how and why a mom totally upset the delicate playgroup balance when I hosted last week.


First, playgroups are for the moms.  When your kid is barely walking and especially when they're not, let's be honest.  You're going to these get-togethers for your own sanity and that's completely fine.  In fact, it's necessary.  Whenever Sofia hit a milestone or I had questions or concerns about things, I would ask my mom, then the playgroup moms, then the doctor if necessary, in that order.  Playgroup moms are a wealth of information and if it weren't for them, I would be a much more neurotic parent.  


Therefore, playgroups are a safe space.  If you're in a good one, there is no judgement.  You come to playgroup with the knowledge that you can say out loud that your kid is working your last nerve and you know that the other moms will chime in with how their kid was working their nerves just last night.  Then they'll pat you on the shoulder, tell you hang in there and you feel recharged.  


But most importantly, keep your kid in check.  This isn't as important when you have a little baby and they just lay there but as they start to crawl and pull up, it's your job to make sure your kid stays in line and respects the playgroup balance.  It's totally fine to play with the other kid's toys and explore, but you best not let your kid break something or hit another kid.  At least not without being appropriately apologetic.  I mean, kids will be kids but you still have to be the mom.


Last week was my first time hosting morning playgroup and I wanted to make a good impression.  I had it all set up - I'd gone to the grocery store the day before and I was stocked up.  I made smoothies, coffee, I sliced up fruit and I even made some healthy cookies for the babies.

From my Pinterest via All Things G&D

I didn't know what kind of group it was going to be and I was nervous no one would show up so I was super happy when my girlfriend Kristin promised she'd be there.  She's super cool and I knew if it ended up being just the two of us, it would be all right.  Kristin's a down-ass chick and we really get along.

However, a couple of other moms showed up and it was nice.  They were kind of quiet and I hadn't met them before, but they got plates of fruit and glasses of smoothies so I figured we were okay.  We made small talk about our babies and it was pretty chill - not like my afternoon playgroup, but nice.  It was a pleasant morning, the babies were chill - the playgroup rules had been met.

Then the boys came.

I have a ten-month-old daughter so my frame of reference as a mother is limited.  My kid is super cool and I know her moves so we've found our rhythm. My afternoon playgroup is pretty well established, we know each other and the babies are all girls around the same age.  I know what to expect.

So when this mom walked in with her baby, and her 2 *and* 4-year old boys I was a little taken aback.  I mean, I knew them and I'd even been to their house, but that was *their* house.  I honestly didn't think she'd bring her big kids to a baby's playdate.

When I tell you these little boys tore through my house? Straight up disrupted our safe space? Y'all.  These bad-ass little kids took to running through my entire house and everyone knows that playdates only happen in the designated space.  You don't just start running through people's houses taking their baby's books off the shelf in her nursery.  You don't just dump out every single toy and run off.  You don't open drawers just to see what's inside.

And you certainly don't eat off other people's plates.  This little kid just smooth walked up to Kristin's plate and helped himself to her blueberries and bananas!  Like it was no thing!

Am I totally dating myself with this reference?

Please say you know what I'm talking about so I don't feel old.

Or at least be old with me.

The whole time I kept wondering when the mom was going to step in and get ahold of her kids. But she seemed oblivious - isn't that how it always is?  When the younger one ate from Kristin's plate, she didn't even reprimand him or tell him to apologize to Kristin!  She was just like, "Oh, let's just get you your own plate."

Nah playa.

I would have pulled my kid up sharp and let him know that you don't eat off other people's plates like you're Helen Keller or some shit.  I would have made him apologize right then and then made him sit the hell down for a minute.  *Actually*, I wouldn't bring my 2 and 4 year old boys to a baby's playdate.  I would have taken the baby to a big kids playdate or the park or something, so they can run around and get all their energy out.  She was constantly like "Oh no sweetie, come out of there, be careful of the babies, no sweetie don't do that, here why don't you sit down and eat that, don't drop the blueberries on the white rug, use your inside voice."

Inside voice my ass.  But I held my tongue - they were her kids, not mine.  My only responsibility was to make sure neither of them stepped on Sofia, which was a full-time job.

Until those damn kids started dive-bombing off the back of my sofa.  Onto my hardwood floor.

What is it about boys that makes them want to climb things and jump off of them?  Is that a genetic thing?  I about had a heart attack when the older one did it first and of course then the younger one had to copy him.  That's when I opened my mouth because there would be no cracked skulls up in MY house.  

"Do NOT jump off the sofa."  I couldn't believe I even had to say that.  Who goes to someone else's house and uses it as a jungle gym? 

Shortly after that, she rounded up her kids (thank god), but not before they opened my front door themselves and ran into the yard, nearly into the street.  What the what??  Again, I was the one who was like, "BOYS.  Inside.  Now."  I wasn't mean about it, but damn!  When your kid is about to hurt themselves, somebody needs to speak up and I didn't hear her saying much!

Now let me not judge that mom.  I don't know what was going on in her world and God knows, her hands were full.  But come on!  If you know your kids don't know how to behave in other people's homes, you don't bring them out!  Take them to a park where they can jump off of stuff all day long!  One of the other moms actually picked her baby up off the floor and held her so the boys wouldn't trample her!  

After everyone left, Kristin stayed to help me clean up and hang out a little longer.  We were both in awe of the havoc those two little boys caused and we jokingly thanked our lucky stars we have girls.  Which of course means I've probably jinxed myself and my kid is going to jump off the roof.

Oh please baby Jesus, I hope not.

UPDATE:  I'm not sure why, but anonymous comments don't show up through Disqus.  I'm an equal opportunity comment-receiver so I wanted to make sure it showed up.  

Here ya go: 

Just wait till you have an older child or a boy and your whole world will change. You are totally in the wrong in most of this. Shut some doors, make some rules to the mom, etc. She most likely needed a small break with people that would understand..obviously not y'all. You live in a dream world if you think your kid will never eat of someone else's plate or jump or run or be loud. Seriously. 

If I may respond....

Thank you for your comment, I welcome all opinions.  However, I must respectfully disagree.  Would you be okay with a child jumping off the pews in church?  Eating from other people's plates at a restaurant?  Not me.  In my opinion, going to another person's house is on that same level, playdate or no.  And shutting doors??  Closed doors aren't a deterrent to two- and four-year olds (which were closed, btw.)  As for the rules to the mom, I didn't know I needed to tell her to keep her kids from jumping off my sofa, so no, I didn't say that ahead of time.  If she did indeed need a break, that's what grandmas and baby-sitters are for.  You don't take your kids to someone else's house as a guest and let them run wild because you need a break.  That's bad manners, no two ways about it.