A Girl and Her Cake

I was working on a post about "letting go" but it was boring.

I would much rather talk about cake. Specifically, the Birthday variety.  I have always been a great believer in Birthday cakes, and I believe that really influenced our decision to have so many children.  Just kidding. There was no decision or action taken on our part; the kids just happened. I promise, mom.
Anyway, having a houseful of children tends to ensure that there will always be plenty of birthday cake. Or at least, plenty of anticipation of birthday cake.
That's the problem: anticipation.
I get ideas about birthday cake that are way beyond my skill set, but just under my fluctuating levels of self-confidence.  To make things better, I often involve my children (you know, those Birthday people) in the cake idea session.  Pre-celebration, I don't seem to think anything is out of reach. Yes! I can make a princess-dragon-pirate-rocket birthday cake! Can't everyone?
Post-celebration, I remember why I hate Pinterest and internet moms everywhere.
Post-post-celebration, I just laugh at myself.
A couple of years ago, inspired by the movie Tangled my oldest daughter asked for a "Rapunzel's Tower" cake. Accepting the challenge, I Googled out this idea. Please, by all means, click on the link. What you'll see bears very little resemblance to what we had going on. Homemade frosting doesn't like late summer, I guess.

Yes, I spray-painted a kool-whip container for my base. No, it didn't prevent my tower from collapsing.

 The following year, with greatly lowered expectations, she asked for a simple "pretty cake."  Even that, apparently, is beyond my abilities.  What we had was more than edible, but a bit on the ugly side.

Either my homemade frosting recipe needs some improvement, or I need to make more of it. I feel if I made improvements, I would naturally want to make more of it and thus the spread on the cake wouldn't be so thin.

This year she just made her own cake.  It wouldn't come out of the pan in one piece, so that really simplified the frosting effort. I think we were both happier.  I mean, what eight-year-old doesn't want to make their own birthday cake and get chocolate batter all over the kitchen and repeatedly lick the frosting spatula and decorate with paper umbrellas?  We're talking paradise, people. Childhood paradise, that's what we have going on around here.

 We're not professionals; we're just having fun.  That doesn't require much anticipation or skill.