The Croissant Chart

I was about to throw away this scrap of well scribbled on A4 paper when I realised that I had never blogged about my little boy Dylan's birthday and felt a compulsion to do so.

Dylan's birthday could have easily passed by relatively unnoticed this year... lost in the chaos that is my life since it was confirmed that we would be moving away from the home I've loved for ten wonderful years to pastures new. His birthday could have passed by relatively unnoticed were it not for the fact that he had been excitedly counting down the days for a whole month prior to the event.

He made a chart - a birthday countdown chart. He religiously crossed the days off and proudly announced how many more sleeps there were until he was five years old. He called it his 'cross off' chart and on more than one occasion I misheard him and wondered what on earth was the Croissant Chart he was searching for.

It would have been impossible not to treat his birthday with the same excitement he had for it.

Dylan's  birthday fell on a Sunday and it just happened to coincide with a date that features in our running diary - a local fun run. The five mile route through beautiful Shropshire countryside can be tackled on foot or by bike and we had plans to take part as a family. My eldest daughter was going to run with me while three of my other daughters took to their wheels with the birthday boy riding 'tag-along' on the back of dad's bike. For my youngest daughter, Addy, this was a big challenge. It is a fairly recent development that she's had the confidence to cycle any sort of distance on roads (albeit quiet country ones) but she was very determined to meet the challenge with the ring of her bell, a favourite teddy in her front basket and a big smile.

I absolutely loved every one of the five miles running (and strategic walking!) with my daughter. It was lovely when the cyclists, who start at the back of the pack behind elite runners and fun runners, overtook us and offered encouragement. I could see that my little family team were all having a good time. I was especially delighted as I approached the finish line (which due to a route change was now a painful uphill slog) to see my triumphant little girl, wearing her finishers medal, running towards me to run the last few metres with me.

Dylan was in a fever pitch of excitement. Both he and Addy jumped on me as I lay on the ground to recover from my exertions. I didn't mind at all! Dylan declared that he was having the Best Birthday in the Universe!

Back home, family and friends celebrated with cake as Dylan ran around the garden in a  knight's costume getting up to no good with a giant water soaker gun - both well appreciated birthday presents.

The only one of my offspring not to have taken part in the birthday fun run was 18year old Charis. She had celebrated her last day at boarding school the previous day and my husband and I were there with her to witness her collecting the academic prizes she had been awarded, to enjoy a picnic lunch and see her taking part in a fencing demonstration. I don't know much about fencing but I think she may have just won a well timed point as I took the following snap!

Her evening ended with a lavish Leavers Ball. As much as I would have loved to have seen her swanning around like a princess in the gown and sparkly heels that I had the privilege of buying for her, we left her to it hoping for a glimpse into her world with whatever photographs might appear on social media. 

We collected her in the early hours of the morning when the champagne had all been drunk and promises to stay in touch with friends had been made. Pitifully inadequate hours of sleep later, she was off on a training course for a summer holiday job to fund driving lessons and travel plans.

Although much has happened in the two years that Charis has been away at boarding school, the time has passed frighteningly quickly. As I reflect on the crossed off days of Dylan's Croissant Chart I am reminded of this passage of time. No one knows how many blank days lie ahead for them waiting to be filled and crossed off but we do know with certainty that the number is decreasing steadily and unstoppably. It's often not easy but I always want to try to embrace each new day and fill it with good things as best I can because one day, inevitably sooner than I'd like, the Croissant Chart of my life will be nothing more than a well scribbled on scrap of A4 paper that needs to be thrown away.

A little boy's birthday

My beautiful little boy was four on the 28th June.

Dylan in a Fire Engine

My daughter Charis' first Speech Day and end of term Prize Giving at her private boarding school was also on the 28th June.

That is one of the problems with big families - days get double booked far too often. One of the advantages of big families is that there is usually another sibling to step in and help out.

My boy started the day surrounded with presents to open on the Birthday Chair we had prepared the day before (putting to good use the flag that seemed somewhat redundant after England were knocked out of the World Cup).

Addy and Dylan help decorate the 'Birthday Chair'

Big sister Taylor then took responsibility for keeping the birthday fun going whilst my husband and I headed off to Chapel where I became predictably teary eyed listening to my Charis singing her angelic best with the school chapel choir.

Next was the Speeches and Prize Giving and eyes welled once again as Charis went up to collect her prize for the best Extended Project Qualification. She has achieved so much already, taking full advantage of the privileged position she finds herself in.

There was a whole day of events and exhibitions to showcase a year of achievements at the school but I felt guilty about not being with my son on his birthday. We gave Charis a picnic lunch which she happily went off to eat with someone else's parents and we drove home. Of course I felt guilty about not giving Charis more time and attention too. All in all I was feeling like a rubbish mum.

I tried not to let my feelings of inadequacy get the better of me and forced myself back in a 'party' mood.

We had cake. That always helps with the party mood.

My sister had told me about this idea for a cake. It sounded fantastically simple - and it was - especially as my husband completely took over the decorating part, feeling that construction sites were his area of expertise. I made the chocolate cake and chocolate fudge topping and he did the rest with the addition of some Maltesers, chocolate raisins, flakes and a pack of mini JCB vehicles.

I did begin to relax and unwind a little seeing my boy so happy playing outside with new toys. I even had the chance to complete a review jigsaw I was sent some time ago and had been saving for when Taylor was back from Uni.

When Charis was finished with all that was on offer at the end of term celebrations, my husband went to collect her (and all her dirty washing!)

To round off the day perfectly, we were all invited to a barbecue at Taylor's boyfriend George's house. Only one of my daughters couldn't make it. Having five out of six of my children all together for the first time in ages was wonderful and I always enjoy spending time with George's family. I let myself relax completely... with the help of a bottle of red wine! The birthday boy was presented with another cake and had a wonderful time running around the garden until he and sister Addy fell fast asleep on the sofa ready to be carried home to bed.

Pokemon birthday cake made by Danielle

I did feel slightly worse for wear the following day but had time to reflect on a mostly successful navigation through a hectic day before starting on the next one!

Fifty

I've had over a week to get used to the idea of actually being fifty.

Whatever way I look at it, fifty is a BIG number. It is trying with all its 'big number' might to remind me that it's all downhill from here - the slow descent into frailty and THE END. I am trying with all my might ... to ignore it.

I may be fifty and under different circumstances I would be finding myself with an empty nest, slowing down and reassessing what life is all about ... but my nest is far from empty. My two little 'late in life miracles' with my second husband are making sure of that. Fifty IS a big number but I intend to use it to my advantage - to give me the determination to do the things I want to do in the way I want to do them.  Liberation by virtue of five decades lived.

Despite battling with the 'fiftyness' of it all, I had a good time celebrating my birthday. Highlights included dinner with an absent daughter courtesy of Skype, some amazing presents that will probably become the subject of future blog posts, a poem written and performed for me and FIVE cakes.

The poem from my eldest daughter was a complete surprise (despite the fact that my she borrowed my camera to record it!) I have watched it many times and every time - I cry. The tears are mostly good tears of pride and love and awe that she is my daughter - my amazing daughter. Mostly good tears. There is an undercurrent of real sadness - remembering a time when my life was not in the good and happy place it is now.

Mum's a Bitch, No Wonder Dad Hates Her

My daughter at boarding school came home for the weekend with the promise of making me a cake with fifty candles. When I told her that fifty candles on one cake was probably a bad idea, she changed her plan and made five cakes each with ten candles. The procession of cakes was a glorious sight and I was glad that we had our fireman (Liberty's boyfriend) on standby, just case. In the context of candles, fifty is a BIG number.

Goodbye Forties

This evening is my last evening of being a lady in her forties. When I wake up tomorrow morning (or more like shortly after midnight when my little boy pads along the corridor from his bed to climb into mine because his cough has woken him up) I will have reached that monumental half century.

So how did I spend my last evening of being a lady in her forties? I went for a run.

I ran for about two miles out along the canal and back again pausing briefly to get a stone out of my trainers. I was hot and sweaty (rather overdressed for a mild evening - must start being brave enough to wear shorts). The tow path was muddy in places. It was a slow slog out to my half way point. Looking at my watch and making a quick mental calculation I thought it might just work out that by the time I finished I would have run for 49 minutes. Rather elegantly, that is one minute for every year of my life.

Either my mental calculation was wrong or my return journey was a little speedier (I suppose there was no repeat of the stone removing exercise) because I didn't quite clock up the full 49 minutes. I could have ran past my house to the end of the road and back but that would have felt like cheating!

I am showered now, there is a takeaway curry on its way and a beer with my name on it. Suddenly my one minute for every year of my life ambition seems very unimportant.

A discovery in the dusty archives

I have been doing a lot of clearing up, de-cluttering and reorganising lately - tackling the areas of chaos that I have steadfastly ignored on previous attempts to sort my life out. The mood has followed me into my little corner of cyberspace - deleting anything that served no useful purpose.

I found a draft blog post from the beginning of July 2011. Although I had published an abbreviated version as part of a Reasons to be Cheerful post, I had never published the full version. Neither had I deleted it. As I read through, every word I had written still rang true. Apart from the fact that my son is now three and a half and the cake is a very distant memory, I really could have written this post today. For that reason, I have decided to rescue it from the the dusty archives and publish it now.

Summer 2011

My baby boy turned one this week, which inevitably involved cake.

But it wasn't all about cake. It was a lot about reflection and celebrating the huge amount of joy that the little fellow has brought into my life.

I never expected to be a mum to a boy. I had four daughters in my first marriage and felt that my family was complete. I did not long for blue baby clothes and trains sets. My girls were everything to me.

When my marriage failed irretrievably I had no idea what the future would hold. I felt so blessed to find a man I truly love and we have a life together that is better than anything I might have dared to wish for. I did not expect babies to feature in my new life. I thought I was probably too old to have much left in the way of fertility. I am so glad that I was wrong.

My first child with my new man was another girl. Was I disappointed? How could I be? I had a beautiful baby girl that I fell in love with instantly.

Against the odds, when I fell pregnant again at the age of 46, I allowed myself to imagine what it would be like if this child was a boy. The pregnancy felt different and I wondered if that was an indication but I was far more concerned with having a healthy baby to give the whole gender issue much consideration.

When people said to me that they bet I was hoping for a boy this time, I would reply that  a boy would shake things up and be fun but a girl would fit much more neatly into my life.

I didn't get neat!

When that baby was born and I saw it was a little boy it was quite hard to take in. Even now, a year later,  I look at him and have to almost say it out loud YOU'RE A BOY.

He's a laid back, happy little soul, generous with his kisses and cuddles. He loves his food. He is strong and tough and has the softest skin. He loves anything with wheels. He has an expressive little face and a smile that shows his cute, baby teeth.

I love him with a whole new flood of love that came from a place inside me that I didn't even know existed.

He is my son. One day he will be man.

Quarter of a Century

I have a very clear memory of the day I turned 25. Far from being in celebratory mood, I felt old. I told my (now ex) mother-in-law that I felt old and she sneered at me and called me stupid (she never liked me very much!)

In hindsight, 'old' was not the right word. It was a feeling of childhood being well and truly over. I now fell into the 25-35years age category. There was no more hiding from the fact that I was an adult - with responsibilites. To combat these feelings, I went out into my garden and flew a kite.

In terms of kite flying success it was a big fail - but it did reconnect me to my inner child. I like to think that even now in my 45-55years age category, I have retained that childlike sense of fun and wonder and call upon it when I want to or need to.

This weekend, my eldest daughter had her 25th birthday. We spent a lot of time together running, shopping, watching a performance of Sleeping Beauty by the Vienna Festival Ballet (unbelievably well defined buttocks and thighs perfectly displayed in white man tights), barbecuing, playing online quizzes and finally enjoying Indian take-out. It wasn't hard for me to recognise the signs that betrayed the fact that she was feeling much the same as I had all those years ago. Childhood was finished and adulthood had her well and truly in its grasp. Unlike me, she was not yearning  to feel childlike and free. A kite and a blustery day would not have worked any magic on her. Instead she wanted to wholeheartedly embrace adulthood.

In many ways, my daughter was born an adult. She has always had wisdom beyond her years and a sensible attitude that quietly spoke of maturity and responsibility. She and her long term boyfriend have their own home and she has settled into a teaching career. So what was it that she was missing from her perfect picture of adulthood?

Marriage.

When she started talking about weddings, it was very easy to get carried away with it all. I practically had her packed off to an exotic beach location for her 'I dos' before her boyfriend had even had the chance for the 'will yous'. As ready as my daughter is for a wedding and married life, her boyfriend simply isn't.

There is no doubt that they are committed to each other but sadly, there is a huge incompatibility of viewpoint when it comes to marriage. It breaks my heart a little bit to see my beautiful daughter denied her greatest wish and her dream day but I also have respect for her boyfriend in that he won't be pressured into doing something he does not feel 100% convinced about. He has a very logical, matter of fact approach to life and I do believe that eventually the positives of becoming husband and wife will tip the scales in favour of marriage.

In the meantime, I hope he can forgive me for being a little too enthusiastic with my premature wedding planning. Most of all, I hope my daughter can wait with good grace and fully appreciate and enjoy the wonderful life they have together now.

When the time does come, I will be ready for my mother-of-the-bride role and play it with the greatest happiness.

Lovely days

There are some especially lovely days...

... when I am really glad...

... that I have a good collection of vases!

Ice Cream Cone Cupcakes for Ivy

It was my Ivy's 22nd birthday yesterday. Her boyfriend was working an evening shift so she came home for a birthday dinner with the family. Monday is one of my running nights so while I was kept busy with a 4 mile route around town, dad cooked up one of her favourite dinners - Mexican Enchiladas.

Earlier in the day, I had prepared a birthday treat of a cakey nature.

Ever since I had first heard of the idea of cooking sponge cake inside ice-cream cones and piping buttercream to give the appearance of a cornet, I have been dying to give it a go. This was my perfect opportunity. The cake mix did bubble up and over the cone which meant a lot of trimming and tidying up was necessary before the piping could begin. The plate of trimmings did not last long once a hungry Charis came home from school.

As often happens with me, time was running out when it came to the decorating. It all had to be done fairly quickly. Although I know I could have achieved a more professional finish and been more creative with toppings if time had allowed, I was quite pleased with the overall effect.

Ivy seemed happy enough with her plate of birthday cakes.

On the down side, they were very unstable being particularly top heavy. There were several toppling incidents and a couple of close misses which caused amusement rather than catastrophe.

Charis loves cake but hates wafer. We all watched with interest as she carefully peeled her dessert before eating. Perhaps I will stick to paper cases in the future!

Squeak and Grunt

I love to hear my girls sing, whether it be at a music festival, busking, a pub gig, studio recordings or just at home.

When Charis and Taylor disappear to Taylor's room to 'do homework', it is never long before you hear the muffled sound of them singing behind the closed door. They have a special playlist on their i-tunes that they sing along to. Charis sings high and Taylor sings quite low so they have called it their "Squeak and Grunt" Playlist. Far from squeaking and grunting, what I hear are perfect vocal harmonies. They are always happy to perform for me if I have any requests.

For my birthday this year, Charis had the idea to put together a list of some of my favourite songs and let me pick which ones I would like to listen to in my own private little concert. A lack of rehearsal time and the unexpected arrival of Ivy who wanted to join in, meant that the concert was not as polished as it could have been - but it was the best birthday present I could have wished for.

The video is Charis and Taylor's brave attempt to sing I Dreamed a Dream.... with plenty of mistakes!

From Cabbages to Roses

I've been baking again.

I am really enjoying receiving my Cake Decorating Partwork through the post. I do not regret my decision to subscribe.

As it was my sister's birthday at the beginning of the week and my birthday at the beginning of next week, I decided that it was as good an excuse as any to make some celebration cakes. My parents were visiting so I made my dad's favourite - coffee and walnut cake (from issue 5).

Issue 4 came with a modelling tool to make sugar roses. I have had a go at making roses in the past but they have always looked like cabbages. Using specialist flower paste and the new tool to roll the petals very thin, my roses were much more delicate and flower-like. I was quite pleased with the result. I used one of my own tried and tested recipes to make a chocolate cake with fudge icing as the vehicle for my little flowery creations.

Making the roses was one of those laborious repetitive tasks that requires a certain amount of concentration but frees your mind to wander. I found myself thinking a lot about my mum as a mother to me and my two sisters - about how terrifying it was for her giving birth for the first time knowing so very little about what to expect all those years ago - about a young woman suffering from post-natal depression with no medical support or understanding of the feelings she was experiencing - about a mum doing her best to care for her children. I made three roses, one to represent each of her three daughters. The number of leaves represents how many leaves it was possible to make out of the trimmings of sugar paste!

I was really pleased with the ivory colour that I achieved using gel food colouring - hugely disappointed with the limp shade of green that I managed using liquid food colouring. If I attempt this again, I shall definitely buy a better quality green colouring.

Reasons to be Cheerful

I have a very big  Reason  to be Cheerful today - a headache of epic proportions that has plagued me for nearly two weeks has finally released its brutal grip on my brain. Waking up this morning without the need to reach straight for the Paracetamol was an absolute joy. I feel like I can actually start living again rather than just struggling to get by.

Another positive is that my little Addy is back at nursery today having been off with chicken pox. It broke my heart to see her beautiful milky white skin ravaged with angry blemishes but she is on the mend and 'chicken spots' and 'calamotion' are now part of her life experience and vocabulary.

Despite the health issues that have dominated the past fortnight, there have been plenty of good things going on.

ONE

My daughter Ivy celebrated her 21st birthday. This had to involve cupcakes, decorated to her specifications. There were the 'worms in mud' variety that tested my conquered phobia of the wiggly dirt dwellers and vast quantities of brightly coloured butter icing.

I am so proud of the beautiful young woman my little girl has become.

TWO

More celebrations followed when daughter, Taylor, passed her driving test.

The ability to drive is such an important step towards independence. I do feel as a parent it is my responsibility to facilitate the acquisition of the skill. This has meant paying out a lot of money in lessons (although I do expect a fair contribution from the learner too) and making time for driving practise.

I let Taylor down badly back before Christmas when she took her first driving test and failed. The practise sessions had been neglected and she was simply unprepared. We were not going to make that mistake twice. Taylor learned from failure and I realised how easy it is to let important things slip when you are juggling the needs of six offspring and a husband... and with a home to manage.

Becoming a qualified driver has given a confidence boost to Taylor as well as allowing me to pass another important milestone on my parenting journey.

THREE

The Aldi hamper of treats that I won at the TOTS100 Christmas Party finally arrived. I had all but given up on it so it was a lovely surprise when it was delivered. Among other goodies were two bottles of wine that I will definitely be enjoying now the Headache from Hell has departed!

ENTER HERE for the chance to win one of 5 sets of Crazy Soap (closes 31/03/12)

The 12 Knits of Xmas

I loved knitting little pumpkin decorations for Hallowe'en and really enjoyed the time I spent with my mum doing it.

I decided to embark on a new project, again with a seasonal flavour, and mum was more than happy to restart our "knitting club".

We are making (or attempting to make) all of the birds My True Love Sent to Me using The Twelve Knits of Christmas pattern book.

We started with the swan.

I don't think I'd ever have the patience to make a jumper or anything bigger than perhaps a tea cosy but I love making little things with very few stitches and rows and lots of interesting shaping. The best part for me is making them up and adding the details that give character to the finished result.

I was so enjoying making my swan that I carried on after my mum had to leave and in a bid to get a head start, so that I have the slightest chance of completing this project before Christmas, I then went on to knit whatever else I could manage.

My biggest problem is that being new to the whole knitting game, I have yet to accumulate all the wool oddments that are ideal for this sort of craft. Mum has bags full of the stuff in all the colours you could ever need but they are in Wrexham, 45 minutes away, and next knitting club is not for another week and a half.

I used my limited colour choices to knit up as much as I could. I now have enough assorted bird body parts waiting around to make me feel like some sort of mad ornithological Frankenstein.

It's my mum's birthday today. She has yet to see my finished swan so this is for her. Hope you're proud of me mum and HAPPY BIRTHDAY.

Aaahooo!

I don't generally take my Hallowe'en decorations down until after we have had our bonfire night celebrations. As this won't be taking place until the weekend, it puts me still firmly in the mood for plastic spiders and vampire teeth rather than advent calendars and Xmas shopping. My teenage daughters have been teasing me mercilessly because I keep returning home from trips to the shops with yet more Hallowe'en stock reduced to clear. If I were a moth, "75% off" would be my flame.

The lateness of our Bonfire party has meant that my husband's birthday has been absorbed into the whole Hallowe'en theme. I'm not sure that coming home from work and dressing up as a werewolf would have been high on his "Top 5 ways to spend my birthday" list but he played along without too much persuasion.
 

I had enough dressing up outfits, courtesy of the 75% off sales, to make sure that everybody had a great costume and we sat down to a special meal which included a somewhat hurriedly put together feta cheese, spinach and potato pie that turned out surprisingly well.

The whole evening was a bit of a rush because Charis had rehearsals for a pantomime she is performing in and being a school night, it was important to get the little ones to bed at a reasonable hour.  Even so, there was real ale and presents and all was good.

As well as all the silly price costumes I have been buying, I was also lucky enough to find Hallowe'en craft sets reduced to 8p in my local Morrisons. I bought enough to give my kids the opportunity to make a huge mess with glitter, pom poms and googly eyes and bought another bagful of assorted rubbers to donate to my little girl's school Xmas fair. I know it isn't exactly Christmassy but I thought they would make fantastic bran tub prizes.

I happened to be in Wilkinsons today when they were making their absolutely final reductions on what was left over after the 75% off sale. My bran tub light bulb lit up again. It made me really happy buying their entire stock of large plastic spiders for 5p each.

I am  hoping that they will go down well at the Xmas fair, raise some much needed funds and put smiles on the faces of the children who take them home.

It has been a good Hallowe'en. And it's not over yet!

      

If there's someone....

If there's someone who turned your life around
And put the colour back into your world,
Then you shouldn't stay angry at them just for treading muddy footprints into your pale stair carpet.
If there's someone who brings you a cup of tea in bed every single day
Count how many times they would have waited in a cold kitchen for a kettle to boil
While you were warmly snuggled under duvet.
If there's someone who is not afraid to put on their shiny shoes
And twirl you round a ballroom
It would be wrong to be disappointed that they lack the grace and elegance of a dancer.
If there's someone, who after a hard day at work,
Drills and hammers to make your home a better place
The least you could do would be to clean up after his "Oh, F*ck" moments
When there's someone whose face you love
And that same face made soft and beautiful looks at you from your precious child
Isn't that a feeling beyond compare?
And if that someone would do anything for you
And wants to spend the rest of their life with you
And loves you
Then know your good fortune and Praise the day that they were born.

Happy Birthday, Paul xxx

Happy Birthday, Liberty

Today, my baby girl, my first born, my miraculous little treasure will be 23 years old.

I love it when people say that I must have been very young when I had her or I don't look old enough to have a grown up daughter or the old chestnut "Are you sisters?"

I was 24 years old when she burst into my life. Only one year older than she is now.

Our lives are quite different.  I was married to a man I didn't like very much - she is in a relationship with a man she admires and adores. We both made the same career choice to work in secondary schools for privileged children but I was a lab technician and she is an English Teacher. I was desperate to have a child to nurture and give me the family life I craved - she is in absolutely no hurry whatsoever to make me a granny.

I'm not sure what my no-nonsense, confident daughter would have made of the 24 year old insecure me prone to crippling bouts of depression. She probably would have had very little tolerance for me if I'm completely honest!

As she was growing up, my daughter tried desperately hard to connect with her father and earn his approval - in the books she read, the hobbies she pursued and her general demeanour. I found that quite alienating and our relationship was not without problems. I read her diary once (an invasion of her privacy I know but who can resist a peek?) She wrote Mum is a bitch - no wonder dad hates her. I'll never forget that.

My daughter didn't find that connection she was looking for with her father but our bond has grown incredibly strong over the years.

At the time of my divorce, she was my rock. She held the family together when I was falling apart. She saw inside my soul and wrote songs that expressed exactly what I was feeling. We learned to laugh together in the face of disaster. I could not have coped without her.

I am so proud of the woman my daughter has become. I love the very special adult relationship we have now and I know I can always rely on her brutal honesty.

Liberty, this post is for you. Happy Birthday. I Love You. 

47 is a Prime Number

As well as my wonderful 47th birthday celebration on the Shropshire Union Canal with my family....

... daughter Charis made me a periodic table birthday cake, which included my name spelled out in the rare earth elements Protactinium (Pa) Uranium (U) and Lanthanum (La) ...

... I was thoroughly spoiled with presents, cards and a special dinner of my choice made for me by Ivy.

My girls gave me a CD of music that they had recorded themselves and best of all, Ivy wrote and performed a song for me. Here she is with "Mimi":

It's been such a good day and 47 is a prime number which, being a bit of a maths geek, I rather like. (It's also scarily close to fifty but at least that will be a good excuse for another party!)

Reasons to be Cheerful

With my little girl turning three yesterday, we were in celebratory mode. It gave me plenty of reasons to be cheerful.

ONE

We went to the zoo. This was the first proper day out since my once reluctant potty trainee decided that wearing big girl pants was actually much nicer than nappies. I took several changes of clothes in case of accidents but I needn't have worried. She coped brilliantly with the zoo toilets without any mishaps. She also announced recently in her little sing song voice that she would "Never wear nappies again". Since then she been nappy free in bed and enjoying dry nights. Now she wants to give her potty collection to her brother because potties are for babies and she's a big girl.

TWO

My little girl does not have very much interaction with children her own age. At the zoo, she was playing on a wooden climbing frame house by herself. When other children came to play she looked very shy and timid and uncertain. She was interested in two children who were eating ice lollies (I am guessing that it was the lollies more than the children that demanded her attention). When they said hello to her she looked very shocked but then as I watched I could see her thinking and working it all out. These were children just like her and she could communicate with them and they could be playmates. She practically pounced on the next child to join her on the apparatus. She followed their every move and maintained constant eye contact. Eventually they broke the silence and started chatting. As children moved on and new children arrived I could see her confidence growing. Most of the other children were older than her.  She was not intimidated by the fact that some were boisterous and loud and she was unconcerned by sex or skin colour. Each child was a potential friend. Some were more communicative than others and it was beautiful to watch my little girl growing into a social creature and developing the skills to make friends.

THREE

On the way to the zoo and at certain points going around the zoo, the birthday girl told us that she was going to hold a chicken. Quite where she'd got this notion from I don't know but sure enough, there was a petting farm and there was indeed an opportunity to hold a little chick. She sat there very matter of fact cradling the tiny bird, stroking it gently with her thumbs and telling the zoo keeper that it was soft and cute and small. 

You know you've had a good day out when...

The Nearly Three Year Old becomes the Really Three Year Old

So much has happened in the three short years since my little girl was born. I became Mrs Virgo, I gave birth to a son and the QWERTY Mum blog came into existence to help me celebrate it all. 

Tonight, my daughter went to bed knowing that tomorrow is her birthday. She has made it very clear that she wants cards and presents and balloons and cake. She will get all of those things and more. 

My daughter (and now of course my son) have been the most amazing little miracles in my life. Having found love after enduring many years of a bad marriage, I did dream of maybe conceiving a child that would unite my new family but I doubted that at my age it would become a reality. I feel so blessed that I have my two healthy, beautiful children as well as my four grown up daughters. Every day they make me smile, they make me laugh and they fill me with pride and wonder. 

Tomorrow, as we celebrate my daughter's third birthday, I will no doubt remember back to a hospital room, my fear and uncertainty, a lovely midwife and a first meeting with a familiar stranger who inspired a flood of intensely powerful love and changed my life forever in the best way possible.

One Year Old

Two Years Old

Three Years Old

Another party, another cake

I am in cake mode again.

It is Ivy's 20th birthday and such an occasion cannot be allowed to go unmarked by cake.

Ivy is a bit of a sci-fi geek. She recently asked her sister to design her a photoshopped Portal to Another Dimension. It is from this design that I took my inspiration for Ivy's birthday cake.

Ivy loves buttercream and glitter so it was a given that both would be incorporated into the design.

To simplify things, I made a fairly straight forward all-in-one sponge mix which I cooked in two round tins.  That part was easy.

The next job was to make buttercream to sandwich the two halves together and spread around the side of the cake.

I had visions of colouring the icing a deep purple-blue like space. I even had little white chocolate stars to stud the icing with to add to the illusion.

When I made my anniversary cake, I had tried to make black glace icing but ended up with dark purple. Just the sort of dark purple that would be perfect for my Portal to Another Dimension cake. I thought it would be simplicity itself to recreate the colour with my butter icing. Wrong.

It must be something to do with the yellowness of the butter but my icing went brown.

I have always prided myself on being quite good at mixing colours when it comes to painting but food colouring does not obey any colour mixing rules known to man.

I added red and blue and black in different quantities but the best I could manage was a sort of dull lilac. To avoid rendering it completely inedible I settled on that and added the stars. It didn't look like any sort of 'space' I'd ever seen but it was quite pretty.

Again, in the interest of keeping it simple, I had bought a tube of ready made piping icing with a selection of nozzles for different effects. Simple it wasn't. It was incredibly hard to squeeze it out of the tube. Although I admit it kept its extruded shape very well, it did not detach readily to form a clean, crisp rosette when using that particular nozzle. I piped a neat ring of slightly deformed rosettes all the way round the perimeter and my hand was aching like crazy by the end.

Next was the fun part - making the swirling vortex that was the Portal to another Dimension. I thought that mixing the colours would be much more straight forward with glace icing - no yellow butter to confuse the issue. My vision was to make vibrant purple, pink and blue and swirl it all around.  Did I really think that mixing the colours would be much more straight forward?!

My purple turned grey, my blue turned brown. The pink was OK but only because Liberty had just been to Morrisons and bought me a bottle of pink food colouring.

It wasn't how I had imagined but I went ahead anyway and glooped and swirled my dirty colours over the top of the cake.

The saving grace of my disasterous project was the edible glitter I had purchased that afternoon from our local specialist chocolate shop. I covered the whole sorry mess with its light reflecting loveliness.

The final touch was to use the writing nozzle on the dreaded ready made piping icing tube to write on the words Ivy's Portal to Another Dimension. I couldn't fit Dimension on so the Portal changed it's functionality to 'Time'. Artistic license!

All that remains to be said is thank heavens for edible glitter and HAPPY BIRTHDAY, IVY.