The Long Week Of Birthdays

This was a week of cake. Of presents. Torn wrapping paper. A few balloons. Singing that memorable song. 

Two birthdays in one week and I am totally k to the nackered.

Matt's birthday kicked us off and I made Stephanie Alexander's 'Best Cheesecake'. It took longer than anticipated, and, well I have a lack of skill when it comes to reading ahead - to discover the cake had to sit overnight in the fridge. No matter, we just drew out his birthday festivities! 

I must also declare that it is indeed the best cheesecake. Ever. Like EVER. I would share a photo but there's only a thin slither left. It will be Fight Club when it comes to divvying it up. 

Matt really wanted a New York cheesecake, I couldn't find a recipe and had to appease him with this. I do believe that man was a little disgruntled. That was until he tasted the goodness of Stephanie's cake. 

Then it was my little man's birthday. I raced home from work on Monday to bake cupcakes for his class. I was so dog tired after a crazy day at the office. I knew I'd make Nigella's cupcakes - which for me are failsafe. Usually. 

I tossed the first lot into the oven, came back 15 minutes later - and instead of perky cupcakes, I pulled out a rack of deflated, inverted things that looked more like pastry shells. 

Pooh! 

I put another lot in thinking surely this can't be happening. 30 cupcakes required. 

The second lot came out. Plop. Same thing. 

I went to bed feeling a bit cross, having tossed the remaining mix in the bin - they were all unsalvageable, and I had to go to bed before I turned into a pumpkin. 

Got up the next morning - well actually was woken up by an excited birthday child - at 5:50am. Er. Thanks.

Made breakfast, and went for second shot with the cupcakes. 

SUCCESS!! 30 - actually 36 perky cupcakes. I let them cool, iced them with butter cream icing, topped each with a Malteser and boom - up to the school. 

Then made another cake for that afternoon with our little family. This time Nigella's birthday cake. Success again people. By this point I am willing to throw the towel in and become a baker. Or something. 

By the night time I was exhausted. But happy. 

What Today Looked Like

We woke up early - but not too early. The Doctor is an early riser (usually 6am, if not earlier) - but today gave us a sleep-in 'til 7ish. Maybe it's a new seven for 7am thing. 


We opened presents in bed, then he requested breakfast. In bed. He wanted pikelets, so I set to work whipping them up to be devoured amidst a mess of flannel sheets, wrapping paper, and presents. 


A lazy day at home was enjoyed. We watched Diary of a Wimpy Kid (gosh that is SUCH a funny film - highly recommend), hung out together, I mustered some energy to bake (I've got a cold. Poor me) a birthday cake. Cuddled. Reminisced. Cuddled some more. And altogether had a lovely day at home.


I tried to get the Doctor to go ten pin bowling but he wanted to stay home. So what's a mama to do?


We did as he wished, then went out for Chinese (as his heart desired) at our local. Because that's the way we roll. I estimate the Doctor ate about a bowl full of fried rice before declaring that he was ready for cake. READY FOR CAKE! We hurried up with the eating - and then brought out his dream cake... A Freddo ice-cream cake. I know I've talked about this cake before - and I struggle with this cake! 


So above is the cake we're having after dinner tomorrow. To celebrate both boy's birthdays and to continue the birthday festivities. Because that's the way I roll. 


You can read the Doctor's birth story here. (If you're that way inclined.)

This Is The Cake

Here she is, in all her pink and white polka dotted glory.

A Tiny Party

Yesterday we belatedly celebrated Tiny's birthday with a tiny party. A tiny Tiny party. Or is it a Tiny tiny party? Who knows. Either way, it was a party. For Tiny.

My sister kindly made the cutest teacups a la Tic Tocs - which were a huge hit with the tiny brigade, my mother-in-law made the most melt-in-your-mouth meringues, topped with fresh raspberries, and the birthday cake? Well I'll post a pic as soon as I have one. Promise.

I wound up finding pudding basins on Saturday morning, got them home, washed them - to discover they were microwave proof, but not oven-proof. Excuse me but WTF?! So it was back to the Dolly Varden drawing board.

I promise I will not talk Dolly Varden again after this post. I am probably making Dolly Vardens trend over on Twitter because I am banging on about them so much.

I had a hoot making this cake. The DV tin did not yield a long enough frock, so I baked an additional round cake and added a longer hem (ahem) on the bottom. Who do I think I am? Suzie Seamstress? Yes. Apparently. I then cut it down to fit with the frock, stuck them together with buttercream, and then got to decorating.

Tiny walked in halfway through and told me it looked ugly.

YES! High fives all 'round.

Then she came back later and was stoked. Phew.

She had such a brilliant time at her little party, played parcel the parcel, pin the tail on the donkey, musical snatues (sic), and decorated cupcakes. Too cute.

At bed time she said: "Mama, that was the best party ever." And then didn't go to sleep for another 2 hours.

Summer Divine

We're celebrating Tiny's birthday late this weekend, with a wee tiny party.

The problem I face is that we've gone from a Dolly Varden birthday cake - and all the anxiety I drummed up in my head about that, to finally coming to a place of calm, and thinking, YES I can do it. To right here, right this minute, Tiny wants the Magic Toadstool cake (as shown below). I only have one pudding basin, and despite having called a heck of a lotta kitchenware stores this afternoon, can not locate the right sized basins.

I broke the news to Tiny that it was Dolly Varden all the way, and her little face looked so disappointed.

If I do not make the Magic Toadstool cake, and instead make the Dolly Varden cake, does that make me a candidate for The Worst Mother In The World Award?

And in the event that I do happen to stumble upon the correct sized pudding basins, where am I going to find those pint-sized fairies?

Help a white girl out!

As an aside, see my smalls post-swim? They just adore being wrapped up tight and being called hot dogs. They are two crazy little cats.

And on the flip-side, if I do do the Dolly Varden thing - what doll do I use?

Tiny In Jeans

Be amazed peeps, be surprised! BEHOLD! Tiny in a pair of jeans. Can you imagine my girl in denim? Nup. Me neither. But here she is. I bribed her with 50 cents to put them on. Bribery. Corruption. Denim delights!

Tiny turns four in a few weeks and I must get organised before everyone gets caught up in Christmas shenanigans and we miss the birthday boat. Peep peep!

Months ago we perused ye olde favourite Australian Women's Weekly cake cookbook (who doesn't remember good times daydreaming about these cakes?), and Tiny requested the Dolly cake. Let's see how that goes.

This party is going to be so fun! Pink-a-licious and fairies. I am excited peeps!

This week for me is all about organisation. I'm getting organised for the birthday party, and getting in early on my Christmas shopping so I can say boo yar to the heaving Christmas crowds. Have you started prepping for Christmas yet?

The Worst Day Ever

Raining and cold, we woke this morning bummed about the weather.

Never fear. Matt was off to work and the smalls and I settled into some crafting, with the Doctor taking the lead and creating gardens for each of us. We were then to customise them as we pleased.

We pasted. We coloured. We cut. We stuck. We marvelled at one another's handiwork. We used straws as power lines, as flower stems, as pipes.

Then we watched a movie together, and the smalls started to get restless - so I suggested getting out of the house and go for some afternoon tea. Tiny was Pumped with a capital P. The Doctor, however, was not as excited. He was boycotting our outing.

We finally muddled our way out of the house and drove off to enjoy a cupcake and a coffee. By this stage I almost required toothpicks to keep my eyes opened. That rain was conducive to sleep, baby.

Tiny chose her cupcake, I ordered a coffee, and the Doctor's boycott continued. And continued. And continued. Until he was finally wooed by the fact that his sister was so into the cupcake it had disappeared - icing AND cake (unheard of!) in mere minutes. He finally succumbed to the cupcake.

We sat in the cafe for a little while, and then went for a quickbeforeitrainsagain walk, and returned to the car. Where the Doctor got a foul temper and declared today "the worst day of his life".

Must have been the chocolate cupcake.

Hip Hip!

It's Anna from Rummey Bears birthday today. It is! High fives to birthdays because they always make me so full of fun and silliness. She will probably knee cap me if she sees this post.

But Anna, let's have a big fat slab of cake when next we rendezvous. No more sharing a muesli biscuit. It's cake or nothing! Capiche?

As for me, I'm nervous about my first day at work tomorrow. I have a to-do list to get through tonight - squeak! What the heck was I thinking? I didn't even do the cooking I was planning to get through to do. Yowsers.

Anyway - back to Birthday Girl - say hi and wish her a very happy birthday - won't you?

image via Martha - Anna, maybe I'll make this for you?

Pupcakes?

Like I said earlier in the week, I went to town with pupcakes for Tiny. I'm not sure if I've mentioned before of Tiny's love for all things puppy and catty. She goes mad for 'puuuuuuppies!' whenever we pass them in the street. Same can be said for catties.

As dutiful mother, I decided since she didn't want to have her pav and eat it too, I would make pupcakes.

I was inspired by one of my favourite blogs - Angie and Kristin have oodles of fantastic ideas. If only I had sat up front and paid more attention because my pupcakes could have looked a little more like theirs, and a little less like...mine. An ode to a moustache. I even heard my MIL say, 'Oh that looks like a tarantula', ahem.

Thankfully it was just our exclusive party of four who had to eat them. We ate our way around the droopy cowboy moustache (Ode to Texas), the straight mo' (Ode to a Banker), and the monobrow - while clearly not a moustache, it's kind of like a brow 'stache (Ode to a Mono).

Thanks be to blogger for rotating my image. Again. Rotate your head dear reader. x

Are You A Pav-Lover?

My goodness, gather 'round and listen up. I have something shocking to share. Breaking news even.

My children are *gasp* not pavlova lovers!

I'll give you a small moment to get back up off the floor from the shock.

I made Tiny a birthday pavlova yesterday. Too hot for cake, pavlova seemed like the ticket, candles at the ready, three-two-one: Happy Birthday to you! Happy Birthday to you!

While Tiny did love the fanfare, the pomp and circumstance, she did not dig on the pav. And neither did the Doctor. It was only my second ever pavlova (thanks to Stephanie Alexander), and it was a good 'un.

Anyone who knows me knows I love cake. And as Jill Dupleix says, 'Never trust someone who doesn't like cake,' or something to that effect anyway. Because I am not happy until Tiny has eaten cake, this weekend I will make birthday cake until I crack her birthday code.

Blogtoberfest Day 26: Things You Should Know About Me

I'm turning more and more into a Glee gleek. I can't help it. I'm hooked. I've even started downloading select tracks from iTunes. I'd ask for an intervention, but I don't want one.

After all, there are only three more sleeps.

Missed Day 25 due to my sister's birthday. Happy Birthday Nar. Sorry readers, but cupcakes and chocolate pavlova called. And I listened.

Birthday Celebrations

It's my birthday tomorrow. Hip. Hip. We had a wee afternoon tea at Sparkle Cupcakery yesterday with some friends (more on SC later).

Here's Matt. He is just learning to smile. Here's me. Chin-chin!

Here's a half eaten cupcake.

The Radioactive Child

I'm like some kind of baking zombie at the moment. I don't remember ever making quite so many cakes in such a short period of time. I'm pretending to loathe it, but really, it makes me happy making sweeties. So much icing sugar. So much...colour!

Today I'm whipping up a batch of little cupcakes for all the darlings (and would be thugs and fairies) at the Doctor's pre-school so they can woo him with a rousing rendition of Happy Birthday.

What to do with the leftover icing? I can't just eat it. Or can I?

PS - When should one expect the other mothers at pre-school to make some eye contact with me and say hi? I thought second term they might be able to. Apparently not.

Stamina

What happened to me? Once upon a time I used to go dancing on tables, night after night. Eat pizza lying on the couch with my best friend. Drink a cup of conversation for lunch. And be ready to do it all over again. Week after week after week. I like to think I was party personified.

But please note, all of the above is written in past tense.

I have to tell you - I am completely knackered. My back aches. My head is tired. I just want to curl up in bed. Is this normal after two birthdays in three days? Or am I just going soft? I'm not even thirty yet.

We spent yesterday morning at the aquarium, and then raced home so I could bake.

And bake I did. Oh and I haven't even told you about how I picked up a baking dish that had been in the oven for 20 minutes at 230 degrees. With. My. Bare. Hands. I didn't mean to bake my own damn hands. That's for shiz. Needless to say, I am sporting some very, very achey breaky sore hands today.

Please get out the world's smallest violin and play a little solo for me.

The worst thing is, I still am not even remotely organised for the par-tay on Saturday. I've barely done a scratch. Someone, send me Martha Stewart. Someone, send me my old stamina.

I've vaguely worked out the menu (thankfully the party is in the afternoon so I have a little more time up my sleeve).

In fact, gulp, I am madly looking for a tiger costume for the Doctor to wear, because his party theme is party animals. Talk about lastminute.com. Straitjacket? Sedatives? Gurney? All sounds good right about now.

Nevertheless, cake was consumed last night, and the Doctor decorated his own. A highlight of the day to be sure, to be sure.

PS - How cool is she? Going to any Sydney Writer's Festival events? Do tell!

PottyMouthMama of The Symmetrical Sewing

I had grand plans for sewing class last night. Grand plans. I thought I'd be coming back here today and showing you at least the front of my cushion for the Doctor.

Instead I came home early and ate cake.

It all started when I turned up with my fabric, and my idea in my head. It's a no-brainer for me. I have the idea, I just don't have the expertise to execute it. But given my sewing teacher's wealth of knowledge, I thought we'd whizz up the cush in under no time.

She pulled out her special folder of pattern ideas. Here's where I should have seen trouble. Trouble with a capital T. Maybe even underlined. There was nothing in this folder that replicated even closely what I had in my head.

I got a piece of paper, drew what she was proposing and realised it definitely wasn't compatible with what I wanted. So when she went away, I started cutting, and as I cut I fiddled around with the layout. I spent quite a hefty amount of time moving things around. Everyone else was a little concerned that I hadn't done anything except move fabric around - but you know peeps, it ain't a competition, and I'm just here to do my own thing.

So I finally got to a layout I started to like. My sewing teacher was on the approach. Her deft hands swiftly rearranged the entire layout, while telling me that "unless it was symmetrical it wasn't going to work". Dots in the corners. Animal prints in the middle. Block colours to break it up. Here's me having a nervous breakdown of sorts.

I'm not assertive. Gosh, I know I need to learn to be, but sometimes I don't want to offend. So in my gentle way, I tried to back out from this arrangement with an - 'I've left some of my fabrics at home so maybe I'll just wait 'til next week to go further'.

Would she have a bar of it? Uh uh.

She started pulling fabrics out of her stash to go with mine. These included a hideous egg yolk yellow that made my head hurt. Some other random bits. And a block of Percy the engine.

I knew someone small (ie the Doctor) would LOVE that block. But really, it wasn't working with the aesthetic I had in mind. I have saved all my bits of fabric. My Japanese buys. My naughty little purchases. I've saved them for something special. Percy - sorry - but it wasn't working. My sewing teacher was shocked.

It was at this point I realised what I needed.

Cake. (And more to the point Stephanie Alexander's Orange cake. Who knew 250g of butter and 1.5 cups of caster sugar could taste so darn good? Ok I did.)

I packed up, feigned tiredness and left. In a jiffy. Before any more of my fabrics could be tainted with Percy-ness. So this is what I have done. Or rather, haven't done. Cut up some fabric. Ta-dah!

Just like Cinderella, I wish a Fairy Godmother would come and tap her magic wand over my head and make me a stellar seamstress. A supreme stitcher. Or maybe I could just dive in and remember, it's just fabric, innit?

Of Pixies and Pirates

We went to a Fairy and Pirate party today. So sweet. So, so sweet. I did my usual lastminute.com thing and went into a frenzy to make Tiny her own little Pixie headband. Excuse me while I still marvel that I made something (besides the wee babe of course).

The Doctor was ridiculously excited - woke at around 6:00am asking if he could get dressed yet. Sadly we had to let him know the party wasn't 'til 2pm (a whole lifetime away for him) and if he could hold out (it was a hot day) that would be better. Boy oh boy, we arrived at our friends home, and off the Doctor went. He's never been there, but he couldn't contain the excitement. He was into it baby!

So we walked through the house to go into the backyard and.. well you know that scene in Bridget Jones where she turns up to the party as the Playboy bunny (let's relive that painful scene together shall we?) and no one else is dressed up.

Yup. Yup that was me. Don't worry - the smalls were all dressed up, even if just partially adhering to the dress code. But me. Yes well, let's just say that I thought it would be fun to go as a sea dog too. Clearly no other adult had been feeling it that morning. Still aching inside that I was the only one singing sea shanties in my head. Ahem.

I baked too. Small fairy cakes. Some people might say I like a little party. If you knew me well, you'd know that I love a party. Big or small. Fancy dress or.. AHEM!

Sewing Scoop de la Scoop

I think it's week four of sewing classes. I seem to be the dunce in the class, always getting a rap over the knuckles for a number of reasons:

a) not being able to get the bobbin in
b) over-stitching
c) accidentally tacking the wrong piece
d) generally not knowing how to sew

Last week I left with a battered ego. If I wasn't getting in trouble at the Doctor's pre-school for lunch packing technique, I was getting chastised in front of my whole class for my lack of sewing prowess.

Never mind.

I am on the home run for my top. I won't show you it this week. There's not much to show. I'm just hand-sewing the hem, finishing the darts and when I have finished it, I will show you (until then, remember to breathe).

But I am steaming ahead with my stitching. Well slowly steaming. After all, I am the slow stitcher. (See how I got sick of stitching in purple, so I've switched to the pink just for fun - and crazy as it seems, that's what stitching is for me - fun to the power of rad (and something to do while watching this - did you watch it?? That Claire Verity is one nutcase)).

And before you think I am some kind of creative genius, these designs are all from Jenny Hart's 'Sublime Stitching'.

So now it's Friday. Thank goodness. The whole weekend awaiting our hands to mould it into whatever it will be.

We have a fairy & pirate party to attend. Excellent! Tiny cupcakes to be baked. Yeehaaaar! What fun stuff are you up to this weekend? Do tell!

It's Cake O'Clock!

Yesterday I mentioned I did some baking while the Doctor was at pre-school. Something I enjoyed immensely because it's been a long time between cakes when I could wield the wooden spoon and not have someone small pining for a taste test. Just me and the bowl and the spoon. Ah yes, I remember this freedom of baking.

The Doctor has been asking for eons if we could make a chocolate cake. For some reason even unknown to me, we just didn't do it. Yesterday I baked the little dude his very own 'Hey-You're-At-Preschool-And-I-Know-You're-So-Thrilled-And-Perhaps-Not-So-Thrilled-That-I-Picked-You-Up-Early-But-Hey-I-Missed-You' cake.

Et voila! (see the small hand in the frame - ready to pounce!)

My sister's recipe. You can visit her blog if you like. Though for some reason she and her blog have taken some kind of vow of celibacy and she's not blogged since September 23 (8:51pm to be precise). Not that I'm taking notes. But she's just moved back to Sydney, you'd think she'd have something to say, apparently not. But anyway, her recipe is damn fine and damn easy. Even Marie Antoinette might like more than just one piece of cake, cake, cake.

And while I'm here, some interesting reading to keep you going:

- for anyone that has to endure hours of TTTE

- do you believe that Freecycling can become bigger than hard rubbish throw out? I don't.It would be good if it did, but then what would I do as a hobby (priorities!)? And anyone some people just don't dig the internet. Or as they might like to call them - the internets.

- do you love Maggie Gyllenhaal like I love her?

A Slice of Summer

This morning the Doctor and I set to baking some ANZAC biscuits. Instead, because I was distracted by the phone, it turned into an ANZAC slice that got covered in chocolate. A freak accident. I never saw it happening, completely blind-sighted. Ahem. The results. A little too delicious. And with a piping hot cup of tea - a little too completely delicious.

Next blog post may be titled: I Am The Christmas Pudding (look out for me with the sprig of holly shoved in my hair - and let's not forget the flaming brandy).

Please excuse my shoddy photos. Someone very small may have grabbed the lens on Christmas day, and until I find the lens cleaning cloth, it's smudgy. Or we could call it 'soft focus'. Something I'd use on myself as I age ever so gracefully.

Anyway. It's stinking hot. The Doctor has been for a swim with his aunty. Tiny is teething with one heck of a molar poking it's sharp, fierce head through. Makes for bad sleeps. And a slightly cranky mama.

At least I feel as though I'm on holidays. All this heat. It just makes me think, even if it's house work, it's kind of relaxed. No work at the moment. No client phone calls. Just me and the smalls kicking back summer stylie.

How's your day?

Something Awesome Has Happened

Yesterday the Doctor and I visited Spotlight. Ahhh Spotlight. Where dreams are made. And dreams are shattered. (Previously I had read this post from Grandy and Baa, her experience at Spotlight made me shudder, but I thought no surely not!) We spent almost an hour wandering around the store trying to find all the bits and pieces we needed, and of course, acquiring a selection of stuff we did not need. And then when we got to the check out - the famed IT system was not working, so I had to dredge up from memory the specials I had snaffled. The woman who was serving me had no idea so really I could have said anything, lucky them, my parents raised me an honest gal.

Anyway, the Doctor and I gave sewing a shot. The Doctor had shown keen bean interest in sewing when I raised the question. So we gathered our stitching bits and left in a hurry.

So in the afternoon, the Doctor got to give sewing and stitching a shot. Oh man, if he was a duckling learning to swim, he was the duckling out there quick as he could, stitching up and down, listening intently, sitting next to his Mama and up and down stitching with his wool needle and wool thread. So sweet. So, so sweet.

While he stitched we talked about Christmas and gifts for people. He was so excited he said, "I can make one of these for me, and Tiny, and Daddy and you Mummy!"

A boy has to sew to glow sisters, it's true.

And when his Daddy came home last night, "Daddy, something awesome has happened!"

"What?"

"Mummy's teaching me sewing!"

Who woulda thunk it? PottyMouthMama teaching her little man to sew!

And meanwhile, back in the kitchen I baked blueberry and buttermilk cake. Mmm, just what I need with a cup of tea on a rainy old day.