And Then There Was Cake

Postponing my party to Sunday was a Very Good Idea.

On Saturday, the lovely cleaning lady showed up and cleaned. This left me with a clean house and less stress which enabled me to hang out with Caitlin, sans siblings, even though I probably should have been potting up plants. However, the cleanliness of my house was so soothing to my nerves that I thought I'd take the baby-free time to re-connect with my eldest daughter.

Good choice, I think.

Then, Sunday struck. The craziness that is pre-party time at our house turned clean into not-quite-so clean.

I decided to make my own cake rather than have Eric run out and purchase one at the local bakery. "Why not," I thought. "If anyone deserves one of my cakes, surely it's me!" Since I wanted to "keep it simple", I wasn't going to make an elaborate multi-layered, buttercream beast. I knew the twins weren't going to give me that much free time. As it was, my "simple" high altitude chocolate fudge cake making got interrupted by twinnage no less than 3 times, turning a "simple" cake making process into the extended-dance-remix version of itself.

Le sigh.

Eventually, they both passed out and the cake was safely in the oven. Eventually I even got to shower and clean up all of my cake making tools. Eventually the party started.

I don't take a lot of pictures at my own parties. That should be someone else's job. When it's not my birthday, I'll document events. When it is my birthday, I shouldn't have to shoot it myself. I do, however, need to shove my camera into the nearest set of hands (Thanks Sierra!) if I want any pictures taken at all, I've discovered. Thus is the life of the photographer.

Unfortunately, most are of my "bad" side.

Note: Photographers are notoriously picky about photographs of themselves.

By the time I remembered the camera, the first wave of party-goers had already left, off to another party. Left behind with the cake was:

Doing that vicarious baby thing.

Heather with Logan.

Faith shows us her hair-tie.

Heather's daughters.

And then we make off with the cake. I'll split it with you 60/40.

Patrick, his fiancee Beth, Scott and Sierra, Eric and the other kids. Here, Patrick takes over icing the cake while Scott explains some dastardly plan. If there is a Scott, there is a dastardly plan hatching. Guaranteed. Eric monitors the icing in the background.

Not even during my own party do I get to escape the Baby Remora!

I'm temporarily off icing duty since someone needed some milk.

Men bearing cake.

When all was ready, it was singing time.

Please let me sleep! Please let me sleep!

Wishes were made.

Birthday girl with birthday necklace.

Yes, that is me at 39. Fabulous receding hairline from all the excessive hair shedding, no? Yes, I fully admit to retouching my own face minimally so that you wouldn't see the baggage I tote around under my eyes where I keep all the excess sleep dust. I'm not using the sleep dust, so it has to go somewhere. Apparently, it goes into the luggage under my eyes, so technically this is what I'd look like if I actually slept. Yay for Photoshop!

Mmmm! Cake!

But let's talk about the cake, because that's what you're really here for, isn't it?

It's the Chocolate Fudge Cake from Joy of Cooking, slightly altered for this elevation on top of the existing high altitude changes. Iced with chocolate whipped cream instead of a traditional frosting and covered in strawberries and blueberries (I said "Some fruit", they went to town. I think it turned out beautifully. Thanks for overachieving, gang!). Nummy!

I take great pride in my cakes and we try out a different one for each birthday. We haven't settled on a "traditional" birthday cake yet, unlike Val's family and their Red Velvet Cake. Maybe one day. Even kids that don't normally like cake eat my cake. Of course, the downside was that Heather was up for hours with a very wired-on-chocolate little girl. Sorry Heather! Hopefully it was worth it anyway.

Mmmm. Cake!

Time until next birthday cake: 3.5 months.