So my mom's birthday was yesterday and as usual I made a cake for her. I am the birthday cake maker in this family. This is an important job, you know. Because cake really is the focus of any birthday, right? Well...it should be. Each year I surprise my family with their own cake creation. And not to brag, but one time someone actually cried when I revealed the cake to them. I say this because cake is personal. It really is. A big deal in my book.
I changed things up a bit making this one. And I guess I should probably admit I have control issues with cooking. I have this thing called the "learning tower" that helps my children stand safely to cook, snap beans, stir, pour, whistle while we work. Except I don't like them to help me. Umm, hmm. I usually ignore the learning tower and hope someone doesn't insist on dragging it over to "help" me.
Maybe I should be fully clear and let you know I like to cook alone. I like to be in control.
I like to drive the baking bus all the way to confection heaven. There is a place and no one is going there with me, ok? Now, the dishes? Yes, you may wash and dry them all. Just let me do the cooking and baking if you are a minor. Which is everyone in this house. Except my husband. He knows to leave me the heck alone. Thank you very much for these 11 years of marriage and knowing each other's needs. Moving on...
Well, this cake was the ugliest cake I have ever made. Ever. I called my mom Sunday morning. "Mom, your cake is ugly. I'm not talking 'oh honey, it's just fine.' I'm talking it looks like my 4 year old made it. And I'm sorry." And I told her as I was icing it my oldest said, "Oh mommy..." My littlest said, "Oh no! The cake is falling!! It was so pretty and yellow..." And I was on a mission to park that bus and go to bed. Ugly cake and all.
So I had a few options on the table. I could break out the fondant and fix the boo boos with a few flowers. (A little cake decorating secret.) Or I could let it ride and allow a little part of my confection perfectionism die. We all need personal growth, right? And I was exhausted. I chose that route.
But perhaps the biggest reason for me to leave the cake alone is that my precious 4 year old helped me. It was so very important for her to be with me in the kitchen. She cracked the eggs and I said she was a "good cracker". (Yes you may giggle and go there...it is funny to laugh at ourselves...) She was determined to wear the apron, mix, be right by my side. And I suppose I was delighted she was there and taking an interest in my hobby. She was creating with me. And the cake was ugly. And it was so messy having her help. And it took longer. And it got finished in the end. But first bite we smiled at each other because it tasted so good. And I love that little girl more than my perfectionistic tendencies. I love her more than the world itself, so we baked. And I actually enjoyed having her with me, I giggled at her mimicking my words, actions, doing just what I ask because she was enjoying herself. Learning how to bake by mama's side.
And I'm reminded of the analogy of God as Master Baker, and we get to "help" him. And sometimes I'm prideful and think I'm doing all this great work all by myself, and then I'm corrected by his goodness and smiling loving sweet face looking down on me. Or maybe I spill a bit. And I know he could do a much cleaner job sometimes without me- I fumble over words at times, I offend other times, I'm just flat out imperfect. But he loves me. He chooses to use me.
I am his hands and feet and humbled that a God so big and mighty and wonderful would choose to use me. But he does. And we're having a great time together, baking, blessing, and learning and growing. Right by his side. Getting directions straight from the Master Himself. It's the sweetest spot.
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