Benji turned one last week. Poor kid got about two tiny handfuls of his cake and Ellie and I ate the rest. Well, she ate the frosting. I ate my piece, and her pieces minus the frosting. Did I just finish off an entire two layer chocolate cake with chocolate frosting by MYSELF? For the most part, yes. Yum.
Regrets? None. That cake was GOOD.
Did I feel a twinge of guilt at all the sugar and white flour I put in? Only in passing. I’ve been playing around with Stevia - substituting 1/3 cup sugar for that seemed to work out well. I could try doing half white and half whole wheat like I do the bread I throw in the bread maker from time to time. I’m all for making it healthier as long as it still tastes great.
I have not found a reliable substitute for the icing sugar I use to make the frosting. I will keep my eyes peeled and let you know. I think there’s got to be some middle ground between the full white sugar/flour recipes I grew up with and the nasty granola-gluten-oil-free cardboard the ‘good’ parents are expecting at a birthday party.
Just FYI there were none of THOSE parents at his party. Because I didn’t have a party.
That’s right. I brought his home-made cake to a friends house for a Thanksgiving dinner we had planned. I even totally blew it and couldn’t find balloons I had hidden from Ellie (so well they’re lost forever) so the host graciously went out to the nearest grocery store and got some for me.
Am I vying for bad mom of the year? Maybe. I just think that at 12 months this kid’s friends are my friends. He doesn’t want, need, nor will he remember a big ‘tah-do’. As it was the over stimulation of the (two) balloons, the (two) presents and the cake was enough to tip him screaming and crying into baby-rage land where he stayed for several sad but entertaining minutes.
And I was not bummed. Or embarrassed. He acted exactly how a 12 month old could be expected to act. I didn’t expect him to take it all in stride. I can’t imagine why anyone would.
As a result his birthday was fun (chocolate cake for the first time!) low key (he’s screaming but since he’s not the center of attention it quickly calms down) and since I’m not busy hosting other people, I can sit down with him and play with his two new toys.
Which is to say, hang out on the floor while he rips apart the wrapping paper and works to open and close the box it came in. Then moves on to play with the curtain strings.
Regrets? None. That ‘party’ was perfect.