Ellie turned five this week. Five. Years. Old. Kindergarten is on the horizon. School bus ride. Backpack filled with papers. Everyday. All day.
I have no real concerns for her as she starts this venture. Ellie is a spunky girl who knows her mind and what she likes. She has two brothers and she holds her own whenever the "love" they show her is beyond what a girl can handle. She makes friends easily and has an imagination that puts Dr. Suess to shame. I love so much about her, and I can't wait to see what this year brings. And although I've got mostly cliches to describe her at this moment, something tells me that she'll find some poetic words someday to tell stories about her mother made crazy cakes for birthdays every year.
I'm not sure what drives me to attempt these cakes. I'm not a very good baker, let alone a steady hand at anything remotely detail-oriented. I have little patience for most projects that don't have a definite result in a relatively short amount of time.
But maybe that's it.
It's a labor of love. It's a challenge for me. And I know they love it. I love the part where we snuggle up in a chair and discuss all the possibilities. How each idea represents a part of them, at this moment in time. When the idea is finally chosen, colors decided, frosting and cake mixes bought (oh yes, bought), I get to make something. Make something for them. Something that is all their own...before we cut it up and devour it's sugary goodness.
So here it is. The latest installment in the birthday cake making years. It's not perfect, but it's a cake made with love. And pink frosting. She'll love it.
Happy Birthday, Elle Belle.
Ps. Big thanks to Aub and Paul for finding this great cake pan at a garage sale and donating it to the cause.