The BIG Birthday Party

Sometimes kids say interesting things. Sometimes parents believe them, but most of the time we brush it off. While I was trying to teach my four-year-old how to swim a couple of months ago she told me "I will swim when I am five years old!" and refused to have anything more to do with 'learning' how to swim. She has worn a life-jacket in the water for the last year, and is consistently afraid of the water (she does just fine in the life jacket, and we go swimming on average once or more a week). I wasn't going to push the issue, I know pushing can do more harm than good, so I thought "Whatever," and let it drop.

Her birthday landed on the Saturday before the new semester started- a great day to hit the beach with a bunch of friends. We organized the trip and decided to try out a new beach - #1 Beach. It's near Batibou, which remains our undisputed favorite, all though #1 was okay. We played in the waves and had a grand old time once we got to the beach, but before we left the house I had to deal with 'attitude' from my oldest. She didn't want to go to the beach. She wanted to go to the swimming pool. I had all ready arranged for 8 families to go, including providing the transportation for two of them, so I was willing to negotiate with her. I agreed to take her swimming after spending all the morning at the beach. Crazy, I know, but I was hoping she would be too tired-out to hold me to the promise.

Yeah. Right. My children? Tired? What was I thinking?
So, after arriving home, we packed back up, applied more sunscreen, and headed to the swimming pool.
Now, the youngest, all though afraid of the water, had been exposed more often than our average one trip a week through the schools' summer program. The kids had been attending the pool with a life guard 3-4 times a week all through the summer. My daughter decided towards the end that she no longer needed a life-jacket because she was perfectly happy "practicing swimming" (her term) on the stairs of the swimming pool. These stairs are not much different than your average stairs in a pool. Not much larger or smaller, and since she was happy 'pretending to swim' (my term) and in general stayed on the stairs I was okay with the life guard monitoring her every day. Still, we made our weekly trips as a family, and I noticed little (if no) progress in her swimming abilities.
So there we are, at the swimming pool, on her birthday, after spending all morning at an Atlantic Ocean beach with waves too big for her comfort. (She spent most of her time playing in the sand that morning.) We all hop in, and before I realize what's going in, she ducks under the water (I go into mild shock at that point, she would never, NEVER voluntarily put her head under the water) and swims about 4 feet to me. I grab her and say "Wow! You can swim! You just swam to me!" To which she responds simply "I'm five-years-old now."My shock increases. We spend the next hour with her pushing off the steps and swimming to me - under the water! Now I admit, she had finally figured out how to BARELY keep her head above the water with an awkward doggie-paddle the week leading up to her birthday, but seriously, it was like one week she was constantly near-drowning and the next day (her birthday) she could swim.
After the first hour she decided to start jumping off the side of the pool. My child. The one who was terrified of jumping, whether it was straight into Mommy's/Daddy's arms from the wall, or with Mom/Dad holding her and bouncing up and down in the water, or ... whatever! She is terrified of jumping!!!! And yet, here she is, five-years-old, and jumping into the water, not my arms even, and then swimming to me after the jump.
I only wish I had that kind of determination. "I'll ________________ (insert your impossible-to-do task that you would love-to-do but are also afraid-to-do) by my next birthday." And then you do it. No matter how impossible or afraid you are.
Yeah....
What would I do? Finish my degree? Open a business? Trade on the stock-market? Take acting and dance lessons? What would I do?

Well, enough personal reflection. Her birthday party was held the following week. There were several children with birthdays around the same time, and to simplify my friends and I decided to combine our daughters' parties and divide the responsibilities. I got volunteered to do the cake, since my friends had seen the cakes I made for the oldest's birthday in July. She had a rock n' roll theme and these were her cakes.



Now I love baking, and I'm not complaining. I love baking, but especially when I have all the necessary ingredients and tools... which I don't have here. Still, another good friend volunteers to let us borrow her castle form, and since our themes for this party (remember, we combined parties) were princesses and kittys a castle was perfect. I woke up early, knowing I do better if I'm not rushed, and I started baking immediately. The party isn't until 3:00 pm, and I should have plenty of time to bake, cool, and frost the cake(s) and then get everybody ready and out the door by 2:00 so we can decorate. That was the plan.
I had shipped 12 cake mixes to the island last August. One for each month I thought we would be staying on the island. (We do a lot of bake sales, and you never know when you'll be in the mood to make cupcakes.) Cake mix costed $0.88 at Wal-mart, and about $5.50 on the island, so you can see why it was worth shipping. The bad part is that the humidity is so extreme here, it gets to everything. Even if the expiration date says it's good for another 6 months. When I made cakes for my oldest daughter's birthday party in July I had to use twice as many to get the desired effect since the mix didn't rise well.
I was prepared this time. I had spent the exorbitant island price for one mix and had been given another by a friend. She was smart. She kept hers in the freezer.
I decided to marble the two mixes - a strawberry and red velvet castle cake. Perfect. I used about 2/3 of each mix in the form, and poured the extra into two 8 inch rounds. The castle cake came out of the oven perfect. I let it cool on top of the stove while I baked the first round. (My oven is too small to fit two rounds in at the same time.) After that round was done, I popped the second one in, and decided to move the castle in front of the fan. It stays hot - really hot - around the oven, and I knew I would need to do this to cool the cake completely before I tried to put it in the fridge. I begin making one of the old cake mixes to have some cupcakes available. This is big party, and I am in charge of the cake. I want there to be enough for all of the kids who show up.
Enter big sister. Big sister is cranky. Maybe because it's little sister's birthday. Who knows how the moods of a seven-year-old work. Big sister lays down on the couch, and accidentally kicks the cake off the arm where it is cooling in front of the fan. She hears the crash and says tritely "Sorry!" I run. I stare. I fight back tears. The beautiful (yes, the marbling worked REALLY well, and the cake was perfectly moist) cake is completley in pieces. More than 5. I try to put them back in place and they break apart more. I realize there is NO saving this cake. I berate my oldest for not paying attention and send her to her room in tears. My husband breaks away from his computer, recognizing that something in the home has changed (it might be my anger and frustration emanating in waves from wall to wall). He suggests "Pour pudding on top of it and call it 'Strawberry Delight'." My brilliant husband. Unfortunatley I have 3 pudding boxes left. Butterscotch. Pistachio. Maybe lemon could work?
Enter new neighbor who just needs to let her daughter get a little distracted by my highly active girls (regular, welcome habit, I also reflect that it might have been inspired this particular occasion). I had all ready apologized to the oldest for making her cry at this point. I knew it was an accident. As the children start playing I explain my distress. My new neighbor says "I have vanilla pudding. More than I will use. Would you like some?" Yay! Strawberry Delight is officially on the birthday menu.
The cupcakes get done. They are not as flat as I thought they would be, but they aren't quite perfect either. I pull down an extra strawberry cake mix. Since I had only made one batch of cupcakes, I still had 1/2 the batter. I add the new cake mix, wash the dishes, and pour a new castle cake. It bakes while I frantically begin working on frosting.
Have you ever tried making frosting in 86 degree weather with substantial humidity? According to the heat index it is more like 105 degrees. Frosting melts. I try harder. It's 2:00 and the castle cake is done and cool but not frosted. The round cake is done and frosted but not decorated. I screw up trying to decorate it, and decide to try again. I scrape all the frosting off, and then turn the cake upside-down, and start over. 2:30. Will the cake-tastrophe ever end? The colors are done, I'm starting to frost the castle, and 5 kids show up. "You were supposed to go straight to the pool!" I try not to sound accusing or unwelcoming despite my exasperation. "Mommy told us we couldn't, that we had to go with you." I look at my husband. He says "I'll take the kids. You finish the cake and come when you are ready." There is a reason I bought that fridge magnet that says "I'm married to an angel."
I frost like a mad woman. I make stupid mistakes that I know how to prevent, but am in too big of a hurry to bother with. I rush and stress and rush. I finish! I realize I don't have my phone to call a taxi. I can't transport 12 cups of strawberry delight, 12 cupcakes, a round cake and a castle cake without a taxi. I use the computer to call one. The driver totally respects my hours of labor and drives as slow as he possibly can to prevent cake and frosting from ending up all over the cab. I show up half an hour late to my daughters party.... but I brought plenty of cake.



Happy Birthday my darling!