I should've known better. I knew it was out of my league but I just couldn't say no.
I had asked Cole and Bella, "Do you guys want me to make your birthday cakes again this year?"
They both shouted, "YES, make our cakes again!!"
Then I made the mistake of asking them what design they wanted...this is where Tim said I went wrong.
At first, Cole wanted a Domo-Kun cake but then changed his mind just when I had it all planned out...of course because that's my kind of luck. Instead, he wanted a Mario Brothers cake, which I was still cool with because it would be relatively simple.
But Bella....oh, my sweet little peanut, who would love nothing more than to see all the brown hair on my head turn completely gray....chose a Hannah Montana guitar cake.
The minute I saw the picture of the cake she wanted, I explained, "Uh, Bella...I don't think I can make that. It looks super difficult."
My own words came back to bite me in the ass, as she pouted and said, "But, Mommy, you're always telling us that you can do anything you set your mind to....you can do it!"
I stared at the picture and then back at her again, hoping I could convince her to let me do a basic 2-tiered cake with a buttercream transfer of Hannah Montana.
Did that fly with her?
Do all 3 of my boys get on their hands and knees on a daily basis and clean up their pee from behind the toilet?
No, of course not....because we all know by now that there is absolutely nothing BASIC about Bella and why would my boys want to actually do something that could be considered helpful?
With that, I let out a huge sigh and allowed myself to be suckered in by my only daughter, as her big blue eyes pleaded with me to not let her down.
I worked on Cole's cake first because....well, it was easier. Way easier.
I even made all the fondant and buttercream frosting myself....and it was still a much simpler cake to make than the freakin' guitar cake that almost cost me my sanity, as if I can afford to lose it any more than I already have.
Once Cole's cake was done, it was time to grin and bear it. I kept repeating to myself, "It's just a cake....do not be afraid of it. Don't let the cake control you..."
And, no, I hadn't even begun to drink any wine at that point. I just happen to talk outloud to myself...a whole lot, people. Any mother who tells you she never does the same thing is full of shit, plain and simple.
Moving on...I baked 3 cakes and then carved that son-of-a-bitch. I was in complete control...mixing gel coloring into the buttercream, spending hours trying to get the frosting as smooth as a baby's bottom, cutting out fondant stars like no one's business.
It was all good.
Until it came time to make the damn guitar strings. My beautifully crafted plan to use floral wire unraveled right before my very eyes, as I practically pulled my hair out of my own head and screamed, "Why on earth did I agree to make a freakin GUITAR cake?!"
My lovely friend, Leslie, who had come over to help clean my house (I know, right?!), was fortunate enough to witness my meltdown.
Just as my head was ready to explode into a million tiny pieces, she poured me a glass of wine and said, "Shut the hell up and quit your whining! Let's get this damn cake done already!"
Okay, she didn't actually say that, though I'm sure she wanted to. Instead she smiled sweetly and came up with another plan....we decided to roll out 6 guitar strings made out of fondant.
The few sips of wine that I ingested turned me into the likes of a horny teenage boy. I managed to turn every innocent comment out of poor Leslie's mouth into an obnoxious sexual innuendo.
A good friend is someone who will tolerate your immature behavior, no matter how low you sink....she doesn't go running for the hills after you giggle hysterically when she asks, "do you prefer it longer or shorter?" and "is it thick enough for you?", as she's referring to the fondant guitar strings and not your husband's penis.
No, instead, a good friend just rolls her eyes and accepts that friendship is for better or worse, through thick and thin....even if it does take every ounce of her willpower to refrain from bitch-slapping you.
In the end, here was the final result....the Hannah Montana guitar cake from hell.
...and I lived to tell about it. So I guess it is true that what doesn't kill you makes you stronger.
But I will never make a sculpted cake like that ever again. Because even though it didn't kill me, it did shave a few years off of my life...and I have strongly considered asking my doctor to put me back on Wellbutrin.
Here are some other pictures from the party...
Bella with her favorite person, Hannah Montana...I know, you'd think I would be her favorite person after making the cake from hell for her.
Hannah Montana teaching the kids one of her dance routines...thank God it didn't involve a stripper pole.
The magic show....(i.e. a break for the parents who were crazy enough to stay at the party)
If you happen to notice that Hannah Montana's concert ticket prices have increased, it's not without a good cause. See here...she desperately needs a new weave.
So the birthday party was a success...and I'm relieved it's over. So relieved, you have NO idea.
On a final note, I have to come realize that God did cut me a break in blessing me with two sets of twins...only having to throw TWO parties a year, instead of FOUR. Now, that's a blessing for sure.
OM and Ohms
1 day ago