Happy Saturday my friends! The weekend is here at last. As I sit and type this I am actually watching the sun gloriously peek his head over the horizon to say hello. It is promising to be another fine weekend.
It was our daughter’s birthday this week. Our baby turned 6, and while I am constantly informing her she is a big girl now (usually when she is having her more unravelled toddleresque moments), I am secretly relishing the fact that I still have a child young enough who plays with dolls, dances in the kitchen, has all her baby teeth, and tells me how pretty my face is.
If you follow me on Instagram, you would have seen my post about Miss Kitty’s birthday. As often happens in Motherland, her birthday festivities were thwarted by the inconvenience of Mama Bear coming down with an inconsiderate flu. I was so sick I simply could not get out of bed. Awesome timing. This may not be a big deal for some (and yes, I relished the forced rest and even managed to read all of Ross Poldark. Score)
…but birthdays are really important to me. I have a strong need to create festive celebrations (duh..really!?), shower love, gifts, balloons and cake on the birthday recipient, making them feel like the most important person in the world. So to be sick in bed while my wide eyed little lamb eagerly expected creative attention, was quite distressing. Talk about pressure.
There was only one thing to be done. I rallied big sisters to my bedside and charged them with the task of making little sister’s birthday a success. I needed them to wrap the presents (I had been too sick to do them before), set a pretty breakfast table for her, pick flowers from the garden, blow up the balloons and shower her with love and attention. They did not disappoint. They took their mission seriously and gave my sweet lamb the most delightful day. I am so proud of them. Proud of the sisterhood that rallies when one of the troops is down.
And speaking of birthdays, this is my birthday cake.
As I just mentioned, in case you didn’t pick it up, birthdays are really important to me. Even my own. Now, I humbly recognise that not everyone has the desire, ability or even inclination to want to throw festive fanfare around at birthday time, but for me, unashamedly, it’s a must. A few years ago I had the revelation to throw myself a tea party every birthday. Possibly bordering on OCD, I need to make my own cake, choose my theme and style and, yes, I have been known to buy my own presents, just to make sure I get what I really want. Told you it was intense.
As often happens in Motherland, I was sick on my birthday last month. Not cant get out of bed with the flu sick, but struggling with some health issues that hindered my ability to gather my ladies around and spoil them with celebration.
So I decided to make a cake. At least I was up for that.
My birthday present to myself was to buy the prettiest flowers in colours I love, make a cake in colours I love, with my favourite flavour (chocolate with peanut butter Swiss meringue buttercream) and then take a few photos, pull all the flowers out, sit down and eat it. Well, not all of it. Not all at once.
And so I did. Just for me.
The funny thing is, you guessed it, as often happens in Motherland, by the time I got a window of time to actually make the cake, it was way past my birthday, half of my family were away, the gorgeous hot pink gumnut blossoms that were to be the star of the show had all fallen out, and no one really wanted to eat my cake anyway.
Never mind. I ate it. And enjoyed it. I gave the rest away. Better luck next year.
Hip Hip Hooray.
To me. Yayy!
See you next Saturday with that baby shower I promised. xx
Cake topper || Glistening Occasions