Last night was a cake making night. My co-worker is celebrating the big 6-0 and I wanted to do something special for him, so, because it’s also something that I enjoy, I made him a cake. It was a simple single tier but had icing drips (a new popular technique) that was painted gold. The cake turned out okay, I would like to do another cake like it to see if I can perfect my technique, but for the first attempt, I am satisfied with the outcome.
The process of making the cake was enjoyable, except the waiting for the cake to bake and cool, that took way too incredibly long. I was so eager to decorate the cake that it seemed like it was taking forever for the other stages to complete. I was vocal walking through the house saying, “I just want to decorate!” I have been waiting for days to create this cake… falling asleep thinking about it and creating it in my mind (mind you I have been having trouble falling asleep as result).
Over the last weekend, it was also baking time as I had a cake order for a gender reveal cake. Much to my surprise my son showed interest in making his own cake. We stood beside one another and decorated our cakes and my heart was full of love and pride. I felt that I was doing something right, that I was sharing a skill with my son and that I was passing on a tradition that my mom had passed to me. I felt warm and glowy on the inside, like a chocolate molten lava cake.
This feeling returned when I was baking last night as my daughter had shared that she too wanted to make a cake, like her brother did the previous weekend. Although not as interested in the whole cake making process, but more interested in the decorating part, I stood alone for most of the evening working on my cake, while doing the basic frosting techniques on her cake. When her cake was all ready to be decorated I called her into the kitchen for her to decorate.
With my cake complete, I stood watching my daughter sink into her element. Piping the frosting on the cake and then beginning to add additional decorations in the form of sprinkles and even painting, yes painting, flowers on the side of her cake. I stood, and I felt that same warm, glowy feeling return. The same feeling that I had felt when I watched my son decorate his cake. I felt like I was doing “it”, the whole parenting thing, right.
As the kids get older, it is getting more and more challenging as they begin to branch out and become far more independent than I am ready for. I treasure the amount of time that I get to spend with them. And when we can all participate in one activity, I get super excited. But excited doesn’t do an adequate job of capturing how I feel. How do you explain what it’s like to be absolutely in love with a creation? To literally be proud as hell with everything that they create? To just be happy and content, from the top of your head to the bottom of your toes to be in their presence?
A family that makes cakes together, stays together… yeah, I just made that up, but it sums up how I feel. I think that family’s that spend quality time together, have better, more lasting, stronger relationships. I am beyond blessed to have the family that I have been given. I was given a second chance at life and boy did I win big time!
Happy Friday! ~