Don't look too closely at the cake. Also, notice that this post was begun more than a month ago. Anyway, I almost didn't finish the post, but I think I'll need this one day to lay on the guilt. Just a refresher, this is JJ's cake for his birthday. We had decided on a dinosaur theme and purchased the cake pan almost a month before his birthday.
Friday before his birthday, JJ went to the doctor for a skin infection. Monday before his birthday, Ryan was at the doctor for an ear infection, so I didn't get the cake premade, I just figured I'd do it Tuesday, the day of his birthday. So Monday night, after a trip to the doctor, helping the sister I visit teach pack and move, and watching and feeding my neighbors kids dinner while they went to the hospital with their grandma, I started not feeling so good. I recognized the symptoms as mastitis: achy bones, fever, nausea, vertigo. Not good. I woke up at 4 in the morning so sick. I knew I needed something to eat, so I started to make my way down the hall. I only got half way when I had to get down and crawl into the kitchen. Now, I did consider calling for Jeremiah to help me, but to call loud enough to get his help would wake up all the boys, and I just didn't need that. There was a banana sitting on the counter that I could reach from the floor. I ate it. Then, I laid on the kitchen floor for about 20 minutes until I felt like I could get up without passing out.
Needless to say, Tuesday morning wasn't going well. We had planned to take one of his friends and go to the local bounce house warehouse and luckily he was fine with postponing the trip until another day. But when I suggested we just get a cake from Costco, the waterworks appeared. I'm a sucker for my kids, so I explained that I would try my best, but no promises.
Luckily, after several doses of antibiotics, I felt a little better in the afternoon. So slowly, slowly, and with so many breaks, I managed to make, cool and frost the cake. It looks terrible. I just wanted to get it done. He was so happy with the cake. Can I say I'm glad I persevered and did it? Not really, but when he is a teenager and claims I don't love him, I've got a great story for him.
