Birthday cake stress

We may like the cards and presents, but a birthday is really all about the cake.
So perhaps beginning my attempt for my daughter’s second birthday party at 8pm the night before folowing a quick dash to the shops after work for flour and eggs was not the best idea.
My next mistake was trying a new recipe. I had already learned from an previous error of judgement that there is absolutely no point trying to make a “healthy option” when kids are concerned. It was the Christmas party at my local toddler group where we were all told to bring a festive treat. I thought I was being clever by cooking up some banana bran muffins from healthy eating guru Annabel Karmel. But I was soon put in my place when they were the only, yes only thing, left on the table. To add to my woe, I had to do a public walk of shame when I was called up to come and take home my untouched baked goods.
So, I couldn’t go wrong with chocolate fudge cake, or so I thought. Anyway it turns out you can and when it emerged from the oven at around 9pm instead of the springy, mouth-watering traybake in the picture, I had an almost flat rectangular crusty pancake barely thick enough to plant a candle in.
Trying to calm my meltdown that I was a terrible mother who can’t even cook her daughter a birthday cake, their dad reminded me that the kids wouldn’t care what it looked like as long as it was chocolate. “But their mums will!” I wailed. So I poured myself a glass of wine and started again and made some simple chocolate fairy cakes which by the time I’d plastered them in icing and Smarties looked semi-respectable.
So after I’d finished clearing up the carnage I’d made in the process, I’d basically faffed about in the kitchen for about two and a half hours. All I could think of was the £5 traybake I’d seen earlier in the supermarket, and put back on the shelf and that could have saved me a whole lot of hassle.
I know that the children really didn’t care what the cake looked like, but it somehow feels like a labour of love.
Maybe it is my childhood memories too. My gran could cook up some amazing feats from trains to bonfires, forts and a doll. And I do remember them even if I didn’t appreciate the skill at the time.
My older daughter is four in January, so I think I will have to get practicing. But maybe I will have a supermarket traybake in the cupboard just in case.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

a day without OJ - A comms, digital & PR blog by Ross Wigham

"A day without orange juice is a helluva long day."

North East With Kids

A few words and pictures of places we like to go in the North East of England and beyond

Great North Mum

Tales from the front line of modern life

The Alpha Parent

Mum in the North East rambling about life with two young daughters

%d bloggers like this: