This is why I don’t bake.

 

Ever have one of those mornings when things are just starting off the wrong foot? I had that happen earlier today.  See, Steve’s birthday is coming up this weekend and I thought right now would be a great time to try out this pinterest pin from Brown Eyed Baker. It’s supposed to make your regular boxed cakes from just, well regular boxed cakes to have it taste like a cake from a bakery. I’, always up for saving a dime, so I said, “why not?!”

 

I followed the instructions exactly like it asked. I added the 5 eggs to my Pillsbury Funfetti Cake (who doesn’t love Funfetti?!) along with the milk and butter that was to substitute the water and oil. I used my mixer on low-medium and then WHAM! I saw batter on the other side of my bowl. Why?! When did this batter jump from the bowl and onto the counter? Turns out that it didn’t. What happened was that the mixer killed my bowl and shattered it. Yep. There were now plastic bowl shards in my Funfetti cake batter. I almost cried. Almost.  I scooped up the remaining batter and placed it in my already greased cake pan. *sigh* Here went nothing..

 

 

Fast forward to this evening after my husband gets off work--

He sees the cake and says, “Mmm! Cake!” I just gasp and try to warn him. Too late. He already took a slice and a bite. As he is eating his slice of cake, I fill him in on my cake story. As I finish telling him what happened, a piece of the bowl had popped up in his mouth. This cake definitely won a trip to the garbage can. Did I try it? Yes. Was it as good as a cake from a bakery? Yes. Oh goodness yes.

 

On the bright side, I became a hero to my son by jimmy rigging his toys. He loves to try and connect different train sets together and then gets mad when he can’t.

I feel pretty!

I’ve been feeling somewhat down in the dumps about my having recently turned 32 and my looks. I’ve noticed that age is somewhat catching up to me. No, not grey hairs yet, but dark circles and bags are inevitably there. My husband has assured me that I the years have been gracious to me and I need not worry about those pesky candles on my cake. Bah! I’ve said time and time again. It’s sort of like when you keep hearing how pretty you are from your parents—it doesn’t quite count, right? It’s not like when you were a teen and a cute boy says you are pretty. When those close to you say it, it somewhat feels biased. Am I right?

 

But…

 

This past weekend I got that little lift I needed. I was at the grocery store doing what we all do at the grocery store when…

 

"No way! You have a baby?! Aren't you just turning like 20?!"
I was in the baby aisle and picking some items up for my toddler. I laughed and said, "Sir, I am 32 years old and have a toddler. But thank you for the compliment." I walk away with blushing cheeks to my husband and my son who were waiting for me on the other end of the aisle. My husband asked why I was blushing and I told him what happened. Not long after, we run into the same guy. He asked my husband if I was indeed 32, my husband confirmed.

 

So I got a pick me up. It was definitely what I needed. Which got me thinking, maybe I can make someone’s day by complimenting them. Be it a stranger or someone I know. Pay it forward I say :)

One of Those Days.

 Ever have one of those days where everything just seems to go wrong? Like you know it is going to be "One Of Those Days" just because you bump your knee or drop something and it's a glimpse of your day? Yep, that was me yesterday. Everything from Michael deciding that he was not going to be napping for the day to my burning everything that the stove touched. It was terrible. I keep blaming it on PMS since I'm due for the monthly quite soon, but seriously, it was just ONE OF THOSE DAYS.

I had decided to do something nice and make peanut butter cookies (i hate peanut butter and the smell alone makes me gag) for my husband. I had gotten the recipe from Chef John over at Food Wishes. The recipe looked simple enough and I had gotten over my phobia of baking desserts. No, really! I have this phobia, or so I say had this phobia since I burn desserts when I bake them most of the time. Ask my friends and family around here. Anyways, it had been a while since I had baked anything and or burned anything that I had enough, or moderately enough confidence to try baking again. If this didn't set me back a bit, then I don't know what will. Especially since I also burned dinner! I never burn dinner!! What gives?! This literally was a bad day for cooking for me. Again, it was just One of Those Days for me. I even ended up shedding a few tears (yep, I blame PMS.)

So what made my day better? Michael and Steve. Yes, my boys. My dear sweet boys. Michael with his goofy faces when he eats and Steve for wanting to eat the catastrophic food anyways. According to both, the food looks horrendous but it was delicious. I'll take that--for now.