Diving In...Yet Again--GFCF Anyone

It is amazing how we all survived--really. I know parents of my generation who smoked when they were pregnant, drank, we didn't use car seats until we were 8 or 80 lbs- (my poor daughter will probably hit 80 lbs in high school) and we all seemed to turn out okay. Yet I look at the kids of my generation and there are allergies all over the place- dairy, peanut, soy. Maybe it is medical advancements- maybe the environment. Look at my own family- a cornucopia of allergies- dairy free, gluten free, no tree nuts, etc. I do not that changes in diet whether it is a matter of life and death like dairy and peanut allergies can be for some people or it is for biomedical intervention- people with allergies should not be forced to eat cardboard for desserts. This is my mission for my daughter.

In our family we are all pretty good about bringing various items to fit the needs of the family members-- it has become kind of a joke at family parties as we approach the food table- each dish carefully labeled, asking questions- "are those gluten free- oh, those are for so and so." At dessert time it was never a problem when my daughter was smaller- she was too little to understand why she was getting something different-- now she knows. We should all be able to eat the same thing and have it taste great.

At the last family birthday I decided to make dessert. I was not going to make 4 different items- one dessert to meet the needs of the allergies- dairy free, gluten free, soy free-- but for those of us not on the diet it could not taste like card board. Chocolate cake with home maid marshmallow filling and chocolate frosting.

There are wonderful dairy free, gluten free chocolate cake mixes you can buy-- I highly recommend them- if you are a working mom or a stay at home mom the results you these versus trying to make the mix on your own-- look at what your time is worth to you. Besides my newest discovery which is gluten free and dairy free- home maid marshmallow is worth the time-- so yummy. Dairy free, gluten free chocolate frosting was another story- what did you use- the thought of not using butter went against my core-- my standard frosting recipe has 2 1/2 lbs of butter. The web was my friend-- I found a recipe-- with a little modification- adjustments for a cake-- I found one the was approved by my daughter the official GFCF taste tester.

Time to frost-- everything was going well- then the cake started to slide--the 105 degree heat was not helping--(note to self--dairy free frosting not good in heat)--adaptability. It tasted like a ding dong-- ding dongs come in foil-- wrap the cake in foil to shore up the sides-- Presentation. I will admit not my greatest presentation-- but a solid first attempt in 105 degree heat for GFCF.

The cake tasted amazing. Everyone liked it--more importantly we ate as a family. Success.

Joy is More Powerful Than Fear

My father is an amazing artist and craftsman. He has embarked on what I feel will be his legacy. So trying to get a birthday present for someone who many would consider a mad genius can be tricky. A replica of his legacy "the Goose." It is a guitar that he has designed and built—I would do my version only this one would be banana cake with carmel and a cream cheese frosting. This would be new territory for me- first sculpted cake, first time with an air brush and the biggest cake I had ever done. But this cake was born in a place of joy--not in a place fearing the unknown.

I blew up the picture of the guitar to life size—yes the template had returned- purely for scale and to capture the amazing details and craftsmanship of the guitar. I made the various guitar parts out of gum paste. I carved away the cake to expose the graceful curve of the guitar body. It was like a puzzle- how could I make the pit guard- when I figured it out my sense of joy and accomplishment increased. Then there was the air brush-- never used one, but I have spray painted- interchangeable. I dove in-- the cake turned out great-- it took me a week to clean up the over spray from my kitchen.

One thing I had not thought of---transportation. We had a cake that was 36" long, a 5 1/2 year old, a sedan and 3 hour drive. The cake would not fit in the car. I cut it in two parts to fit in the car-- the body and the neck. I finished it at my mom’s house.

We delivered the cake- there are two “O”s in goose literally. My husband my constant support helped—when my Dad walked in he couldn’t figure out what he was looking at- a cake or one of his guitars. It was great—joy from a slice of cake.

A Bride, A Brother and Complete Faith...

Looking back at my big day I did not care about my cake-- my mom was the driving force behind my cake-- she said I would regret it if I did not have the picture of us cutting the cake. But I do know friends who obsessed over their cakes--you watch those shows and women go nuts; seven tiers, six feet tall. Now I would be one of those women obsessed over the cake-- but I would do my own cake focusing on seasonal flavors and modern yet meaningful design.

So when my brother and his wife, who I adore came to me and asked my do to there cake, with out missing a beat I said yes. It never even occurred to me that I could ruin their big day if I messed this up. I was going to have plan A, B, C, and Z. My only request was that I could have design control. I was now at a place where I had have the design come to me. The templates had long since been filed away. As I became more confident in my corporate career and myself as a mom I became more confident in my ability in cakes-- fearless. I was applying some of my corporate strategy skills to cake making-- just figure it out. More forward.

Fast forward a year later, two months before the wedding. I wanted to pin them down on flavors. It had to be three tiers to serve the 80 guests. Two down: chocolate with a carmel sea salt filling with almonds and chocolate gnache and cardamon carrot with vanilla bean cream cheese frosting. Then my brother dropped the bomb. I was also doing there dessert bar where I was not able to accommodate his tirimisu request --so how about a tirimisu cake-- sure I said, fearlessly moving forward. I had never done that. I arranged a cake testing-- it was okay-- not great. But we were moving ahead with the flavor. I never baked a another test cake-- I was figure out on the big day. I trusted in myself.

The design was taking from their two passions- her love of her Nordic heritage that was embodied in her dress with silver braiding and my brother's love of Japanese simplicity. I would meld the two. I found a Nordic love poem and the Japanese symbol for love. They would appear on the cake on edible rice paper- a technique I had never used. I also hand crafted over 100 Japanese Cherry Blossoms-- I had never worked with gum paste or made sugar flowers before. But I was committed to the vision. I worked at night and early mornings before work making flowers- my husband served as my judge on the cherry blossoms. He picked the best ones for the cake. I moved ahead- my daughter joined me in dusting the sugar flowers. My neighbor who is Japanese wrote "love" for me over sushi.

I finally told my brother about three weeks before the wedding what the cake was going to look like. I packed up and left for Santa Barbara on the train with my daughter to begin baking.

I never let on the terror that was going on in my head if I let them down. I had never done this before-- But it came out great-- this is my one and only wedding cake. They loved it for the meaning behind it- the fact I used local carrots from their friend who is a local farmer. It quietly spread around the wedding that I did the cake, then my brother publicly thanked me for all of my efforts. It made me realize how important it is to be graceful when receiving a complement--I also realized that I now had the ability to do it! This cake gave me the courage to launch cakes of grace...for that I am ever indebted to my brother and his wife for their complete faith in my talent.

Mom...My Sense of Perfection Ran Deeper Than I Thought

So my my Mom was turning sixty this past year. It was time to party. My mom's birthday fell just after Christmas. Over the years this meant going out dinner with her parents (no kids allowed- I would still be considered a kid) for a quiet dinner.

My mom's husband and I got to planning--we were going big. Her friends, appetizers, invitations for 110. True to form my mom gave me her inspiration for the party...a pine cone. Not just any pine cone. A pine cone that she had hiked to get and is the size of a small watermelon. Design a cake around that. I felt like the kohler commercial. But it did not stop there. I asked her, "what type of cake do you want?" We were up at are usual time 5AM having coffee. "brown sugar with a black walnut frosting" What I thought to myself. This is why I started making my own birthday cakes. I didn't even know what this was. She took out the cook books. I said, "mom lets think of the masses here. Also, I work in fondant a walnut glaze wouldn't work structurally." She looked at me and said just as mother knows how to do it "that's fine do what you want," but I felt like I had crushed my Mom's cake dreams like the very walnuts she wanted.

My very quest for perfection that I have been working to squelch began to rear its ugly head. I had decided on the cake. Chocolate cake with a carmel fleur de sal filling with toasted almonds with chocolate gnache filling. The party had 90 RSVPs so it was a 3 tier cake. The theme of the party had a modern woodland vibe incorporating my Mom's beloved pine cones.

I hand formed pine cones out of gum paste, dusted half in gold and left half in brown. I made mushrooms out of meringue. The forest scene grew out of the side of the cake with a cook gray sky in the background. I wanted the cake to be perfect. I was so focused on the placement of pine cones and mushrooms my brother told me to stop. Let it go. My mom spent part of her life trying to please her mom-- I now fell into that web. Not again. The cycle ends here. The cake was my mom. The cake expressed her love of nature and it was delicious--no parchment paper.

Hello Kitty is Back!

I remember being about 10 years old and going to San Francisco with my mom. I still remember walking into the Sanrio store-- a Hello Kitty wonderland--my favorite thing was picking the grab bag. It had a surprise item in it. Little did I know 23 years later my daughter would be in love with Hello Kitty. Around five your children become acutely aware of their birthdays--Payton wanted to go bowling and have a Hello Kitty cake.

Up until this point I have either my a cake that looked great, but she couldn't eat and served her a separate cupcake or purchased a small vegan cake (i did this once--it was gross). I was on a mission this year. I wanted Payton for the first time in her life to be like every other kid--blow out the candles, cut the cake and get the first piece of cake. I never understood how important inclusion was to a child until one family birthday party when my daughter burst into tears because she couldn't eat the cake because it had dairy. She walked across the lawn, sat by herself and began to cry. She got it--she was different! But that it why we love her.

I was going to go big-- a sculpted Hello Kitty out of cereal treats-- of course I asked Payton what type of cake she wanted-- pink-- so I did a strawberry dairy free cake with tofu cream cheese Tahitian vanilla bean frosting.

I marched forward with no drawings or plans-- free form sculpting inspired by my daughter's favorite doll and a small picture of Hello Kitty. I had never mold or sculpted before. But I was free--I used my favorite casserole pot as a mold for the head and carefully carved the head. The Hello Kitty was covered in fondant. Payton carefully directly the colors of the dress--how many flowers. I free formed the body, arms, ears and legs. It took about 4 days working at night--it became a sick obsession. The "kitty" sat staring at my family on the counter--"my ears could be better" "my arm is going to fall off" My husband finally said, "you have to let it go" I was like a crazed artist. When my family walked in and saw they could not believe it. The entire cake was entirely edible. The cake was amazing, I loved it because my daughter loved. Better yet--it tasted great. Yes I said-- I love this cake--to date this is still one of my favorite cakes.

The look on my daughters face when she got the first slice was amazing-- she was included with her friends. Hello Kitty was back in a big way!

Flexibility 101

One of my greatest joys has been doing cakes for other people. In fact I have only done one cake for myself--it was the birthday cake I shared with my husband. I love the look that comes over their face when they see the cake for the first time--amazement and wonder. Transporting them back to their childhood or favorite memory just for a split second. That is why I get so much enjoyment out of doing cakes.

I have had the pleasure of doing several cakes for my best friend. A birthday cake, cupcakes for her wedding shower, and most recently her baby shower. My life has changed dramatically over the course of these baked goods. The birthday cake I was still in my perfectionist stage obsessing over the perfect color purple--finally abandoning the icing and adding a decorative ribbon in the perfect hue. The cupcakes had beautiful little bunches of piped grapes to match with the theme--but I was letting go. For her shower cake-- it was all about the amazing little family that was being created. All boy. Dump trucks, baseball. A "K" for their last name, a football--their favorite sport.

It was a beautiful cake--my daughter was now in the kitchen helping me put the final touches on the two tier round cake. I turned my back--my daughter, in an effort to be efficient much like her mother attempted to place the top tier herself. Not a good idea. It hit the decks. Quelling my anger as my daughter looked me--I smiled and said--"it will be okay,--I'm not mad" as I was saying "oh shit, oh shit" inside "the shower is two hours away." The cake was dented and crushed on one side and now resembled a piece of clay on a potters wheel. I ripped off the fondant. Baby block I thought. Bingo--more fondant appliques--we got it!! My daughter came back and we were done.

Flexibility as a mom and as a baker is a good thing...

Cooking With My Daughter

My husband's family has a wonderful tradition of celebrating family birthdays together--all the September people at one party, all of the April folks together and so on down the line. Once it was discovered that I did desserts--I found myself often bringing dessert to each event. For this family birthday we had a fiesta themed party which my husband and I hosted. It was the perfect opportunity to practice a cake and make something delicious. One problem, I now had to cook and make cakes with a three year old in tow.

I saw the idea of the cake in my mind, bright vivid colors with the little tissue paper like tuffs found on pinatas. I made the cake--Mexican chocolate cake (a touch of cinnamon elevates the flavor of the cake-- much like coffee) with a chocolate buttercream.

It was time to decorate- make a tile mosaic as a boarder and randomly place the flowers. This seemed simple enough, but my daughter carefully directed the placement of every flower and tile after a lengthy discussion. More flowers, pink purple-- "more mommy." I think if I wouldn't have stopped her it would have looked like a pinata threw up all over the cake. But it came out great. I was beginning to see the joy and light in her eyes that my mother saw in me when I was little cooking with her in the kitchen. More importantly I was laughing--having fun. Kids take away the wave of perfection that is so often sought after in the kitchen...dive in, laugh, have fun.

Letting Go..

My daughter is amazing--before you role your eyes--she has a had wonderful sense of spirit since birth. She was born with severe reflux that required multiple medications to control and to a mom who has post-pardum depression that was spinning out of control. Payton made my job as a mom easy- she didn't fuss or cry--she went with the follow. I could not wrap my head around why I was having such a hard time fully loving this amazing little girl. Why couldn't I open myself up to motherhood. With the help of doctors, medications, I broke through, but it took time and learning to trust in myself and in Payton. Letting go of perfection realizing that all Payton wanted was to be loved, hugged and tickled. That day came as I dropped her off for preschool. Her classroom had windows to the outside. I watched many parents check in on their kids through the glass or watch the tiny faces press against the glass to get a last glimpse of mom or dad. Then one day in May- Payton press her little face against the glass a banged her hand as I walked by-- that final glimpse. I smiled and waved back to her and blew a kiss. And with that she was off. On that day in May I realized my child just needed me-- not perfect outfits, the perfect parenting books--she just needed and wanted me.

What does all of that have do do with a cake. As I grew into motherhood--Payton moved into the kitchen with me. For her next birthday--I asked her what she wanted. She picked out a butterfly princess cake. No problem, one princess mold, check, one princess torso check, molded butterflies, check. The sense of freedom I gained from doing our 30th birthday cake continued to emerge in Payton's cake. I let go of the fact that I thought the traditional princess cakes were tacky-- I gave Payton's princess an updo--oh yes-- I sewed her hair into a classic chignon. I hand painted and sculpted the butterflies. I asked Payton where they should go on the cake. It was a banana cake with a cream cheese frosting. She loved it. The cake was driven by my daughter...

A Sense of Freedom

I was turning 30 or should I say we were turning 30. My husband and I are exactly 2 months apart--to the day. So for 2 months a year he reminds me how much he enjoys being married to a cougar. Thirty was a milestone--my daughter was turning 3, I was still working in corporate America doing well, and of all things just picked up my new ride--a minivan. Yes, never in 10 million years did I think I would be driving a minivan at 30. However, I was going to embrace 30, not dive of the deep end or should a say drive off the deep end in my minivan. Things were good and it was time to celebrate.

My husband and I had a joint 30th birthday party. A Vegas themed affair complete with gaming tables, jello shooter bar (my one hold out to my twenties--little did I know a secret hold out of my fellow thirty year olds), throw back food and of course a three tier cake. You may ask had I ever done a three tier cake--no, did I know what I was doing, no, did I draw out a plan, only once- but it was a free form hand sketch.

My husband and I had an amazing opportunity to move out of state. This decision was met with mixed reviews within our tight knit family group. We did not end up going--it was not the right job fit for my husband. What the experience did do is help my husband and myself begin to establish a sense of ourselves--a belief in our core group-- a group of 3, that we were accomplished and one anothers biggest cheerleaders. A sense of freedom was born within the walls of our family unit.

That sense if freedom came out in this cake. I tried flavors and techniques I had never tried. It was a 3 tier cake. The bottom looked like a roulette wheel. The middle covered with card symbols and the top a harlequin throw back. There were dice on wires dancing out of the cake. The flavors were a coconut cream, classic chocolate cake and a red velvet. I had only made the chocolate cake before. There was no sense of fear--that if I could not pull through we would have no birthday cake at our party. My husband never questioned me--he stepped in yet again supporting me--looking up roulette numbers.

The cake came out amazing. Surprisingly the coconut cream was the most popular flavor and the smallest tier. People saw the cake and people asked who did the cake--my husband would say, "she did" or I would say, "I did." No one knew I could do this. I don't think I knew I could accomplish what I did that night. But it is a amazing how having a sense of freedom erases the sense of fear.

So Now What...

So now what? I spent the first year of my daughters life figuring out how to be a mom or what I thought was the "mom ideal." We had the SUV, the bugaboo (it was a great stroller if your kid has reflux-- you can keep them at a permanent angle-- thus reducing spit up and laundry loads), we had hair bows and we had the mega first birthday. I felt like we were making progress.

I was starting to loosen up as a mom. No really I was--I was laughing now--sometimes even at myself. Work was going well. Things were on track until New Years Eve. My daughter had her accident and we end up in the Grossman Burn Center ICU for 10 days and 2 surgeries. She would eventual need one additional surgery to repair the graft that was placed on her hand. That forever changed me as a mom. She is fully recovered from her burns and so are we-- but I did not do another cake that year. "Practical" quickly came into my vocabulary. For her birthday we did cupcakes. The matrix of perfection that I was trying to live my life by and build my cakes by was starting to crumble. I have a resilient little girl to thank for that. As parents we are here to teach our children life's lessons, but in the 5 1/2 years my daughter has been on the planet I have learned so many lessons from her.

People kept asking "are you still doing parties, have you done a cake?" I would respond, "no, focusing on being a mom." I just wasn't inspired. The next cake I would do, is still to this day, one of my most favorite. The cake I came out of hiatus for was for a family member. My cousin, but I call her my Aunt. She is more than that, she has been my guardian, a mentor, a picture of grace. It was my first cake truly drawn on inspiration. She loves violets. I designed the cake without a template. It was a white cake with lemon curd and fresh raspberries with a vanilla buttercream. It was covered in white fondant with purple violets. They were randomly placed all over the cake. I still love the simple elegance of the cake.

To transport the cake I bought a cake box-- it looked very professional. I remember sitting around the table watching everyone eat the cake. Silently watching expressions. This was family after all. They will tell you like it is. But they loved it. Success.

Mom by Martha...

So i was now a mom. I gave birth in late October of 20004 to an amazing little girl. Right from the start she was incredibily resilent. She was born with a severe dairy allergy and reflux, but she did fuss or cry. It was if she knew that would be to much for me. My whole life I dreamed about being a mom and here I was a mom to an amazing little girl and I did know what to do with myself. Something was wrong so I spent the better part of four months acting like everything was great, super, I was a regular super mom. I mean when someone comes up to you and says "could you imagine your life without her" I wanted to cringe at the thought of answering that question. But it didn't matter I was doing mom by martha. All I wanted to do was go back to work so I did 10 weeks later. But deep down I knew something was off. I finally through the help of my mom and husband saw a wonderful specialist I was diagnosised with post pardum depression. I realized that being a mom did not fit into a matrix. Although schedules can be defined by rows and coluoms, love and care of booboos cannot. This was a new concept. Something that would take three and half long years to battle through.

But when it came to her first birthday I would find myself exactly where I swore I would never be-- a complete over the top birthday--60 adults, 25 kids in costume, center pieces, a photo station, kids tables, and of course a two tiered cake which my daughter couldn't eat because she had a dairy allergy. That did matter--it went with the theme-I was aiming for Martha here okay- (in case you are wondering I went to whole foods and bought her a vegan cake to smash her hands in). Everyone pitched in- my mom cut out pumpkins for center pieces they matched the fondant pumpkin patch on the bottom of the cake, my dad transported hay bails and corn stalks from 3 hours away which also appeared on the cake.

The two tiered cake was purple marbled fondant with a chocolate cake and chocolate gnache filling with a carefully crafted halloween scene. Hay stacks, pumpkin patch, witches, and a moon circled the cake. My techniques were improving, there was no template, but it was more for the show. Looking back, I can't believe I made a cake that my daughter couldn't even go near. I made a cake that went with the theme, how Martha of me.

The Family Knows...

I have still been down playing the fact that I can do cakes and do them somewhat well. I really have no idea why still to this day. I just did it again. I do them well for no training at all. I do this because people know I am still working full time in my corporate job...an industry that I have become very accomplished in, I am now a mother of a 5 1/2 year old and I do try and cook 5 nights a week. I just had no understanding of Grace. How just being able to say "thank you," with a warm smile when someone gives you a complement is being graceful. I couldn't do that, I didn't understand how important that was.

Yes I will admit that I do get up at 5AM everyday-- this seems nuts to others, but this is my time of zen. Unfortunately for my mother my time of zen has existed since I was a baby and now for me my daughter likes to enjoy the same time zen. That is usually when I work on cakes before I go to work. The house is quiet, it doesn't impact time with my family. I love doing it, but I hadn't really let anyone in on my secret. The time was coming. My husbands family has a wonderful sense of tradition. This includes gathering for family holidays. I offered to bring the dessert. Missing my family traditions I decided to make a Yule Log. Something a attempted one year at my moms house without any fear.

My sense of perfection was still heavily ingrained in me. These were my in-laws. I was taking care of her son. I wanted to put my best foot forward. I made mergine mushrooms (made extras- goods snacks), secured real evergreen for decorations, brought cocoa powder for dusting and to top it all of made a second dessert as back up.

I thought the cake looked great--very controlled, just like Martha. Just like her picture- a perfect little Yule Log like out of a catalog. At the time she was who I sought to be like. The picture of perfection. That was before her jail sentence and before my daughter. I laugh now...I am more of a 30 minute meal kind of person and yes I have learned how to use the crock pot.

I now have requests for Yule Logs from my mother and my mother in law. I can say how truly flattered I am. The only different nearly six years later-- my daughter places the mushrooms, throws the cocoa with gusto--a much more organic look--I don't know if Martha would be proud, but I am proud. Gaining grace is a good thing.

Thanks to My Champion..

I come from a very creative and talented family. I have spent much my adult life running away from my artistic talent that is running through my veins. I have never been much for painting or drawing even though I can do both with some ease. I moved away from home six days after a graduated high school to begin crafting my matrix. There was no room on my matrix for my artistic side.

Little did I know my talent and passion for cakes started in high school when I made an Orange Chiffon Cake with Candied Violets for the Junior Miss Pageant and won the talent competition. Others girls danced and played piano-- I proudly announced I would demonstrate my baking talent. That was my talent. They initially looked at me in horror--she is not staying with in the mold. That cake laid the foundation that would be dormant for more than seven years.

I did not tap back into this talent until I made a cake for my husband's surprise birthday party. Chocolate on chocolate. It had chocolate shavings all over the top. It looked beautiful...little did any one know the chocolate shavings covered up imperfect gnache. A further attempt to make the cake look perfect. The true laughs came when my husband blew the candles out and chocolate shavings blew all over the me and his best friend standing by the cake. That cake started the path to another birthday cake for my husband with a golf theme-- small molded golf balls of white chocolate, green fondant grass and a putting green on top. The was the shining star of a wine tasting event we held at our house. That night, everyone kept saying why didn't I do this for other people, I tossed there comments to the side. Because I had a plan, a matrix. I would not even allow myself to accept there complements gracefully. "oh, its not a big deal." I could even say a simple thank you when someone complemented my food or cake.

It was later that weekend when my wonderful husband said I should follow my passion and see what happens. He was my support system. He helped me with a logo, he became my champion. My first client was in his network of friends. He never doubted me. Over the years my love for husband and daughter has changed why I do cakes...he is my champion and I am their champion. I do cakes because it makes me happy and it is something I love.

Cakes While Pregnant...

So I was pregnant... I had adjusted my matrix, but I now had letterhead because I had clients, yes clients. In addition to still being in the corporate world, I mean I had good benefits, I was on the management track, I now a small event business. I would plan the party, do the food, set up the food table and create the cake. One small wrinkle-- being pregnant. I was so sick my first 12 weeks-- I mean sick we should have purchased stock in Schwepps. But I kept going. I could do it. I am married to an amazing husband who watched me try and do it all. So at five months pregnant I took what would be my last official job before becoming a mom-- a baby shower. Simple, quiche, salad and a cake. Oh, what to do. Pink and green for a little girl, polka dots went with the theme. Looking back this is so boring and uninspired. The flavor was even boring-- they wanted chocolate, just plain chocolate. But that is what you are going to turn out when you use a template and your life is run by a matrix.

The one thing I wasn't counting on the hormones. I was still using my templates to create and design the cake so now my usual anal compulsiveness was mixed in with raging hormones and my poor husband did not dare cross the kitchen threshold. But he smiled and offered to help where he could. I delivered the cake and finished the shower-- many of the women at the shower looked at me in what I thought was amazement, as I proudly told them that I did this in addition to my full time corporate job, being happily married and pregnant, but it was really, you have know idea what you are getting into and try and keep this up. They were already moms. It was the secret mom code look. I now know the look. I have shared it with my own mom as we laugh about experiences of the uninitiated. That was first major turning point for me a simple polka dot at a baby shower. I had to let go of a dream--I couldn't do it all. That was my last full scale event for about two years. I lost myself in a sea of polka dots.

I Am on The Kiddie Circuit...

So cake number one went well so well I got another client out of it--albeit another princess cake, but, another cake. There has been one development between client one and client two. I found out I was pregnant. We were planning on having kids-- God just excellerated the time line. This was not in my plan-- this was six months early. I now had clients-- where did being pregnant 6 months early and having two clients fit into my life matrix that I was trying so desparately to follow--I would keep working my corporate job and do parties and make fabulous cakes. However, this was God's way prepping me for parenthood. What not to do at my own daughter's birthday parties- 75 adults 40 kids. Over the top-- storytellers, goodie bags, music, lights-- there might have well have been a fog machine.

But a stuck to my plan... my computer template. I submitted my sketch (I drew probably twenty) and they loved it. I used the same buttercream receipt-- but alternated chocolate and vanilla layers. A cinderella blue fondant with little slippers randomly placed-- but every slipper was intentional. I remember rotating the cake and asking my husband does it look okay--I am sure he was looking at me as if I was asking him "does the cake look fat?"

The client loved the cake and recommended me to girlfriend-- a kid's birthday cake. I was now officially on the kiddie circuit.

Before Baby

So there was some unfinished business around that first cake--it was before I became a mom. I approached cake design like corporate america-- a defined plan, controlled, and perfection was goal. I used my computer to design a tiered template of circles that a could draw my plan onto-- I could not even let go enough to free hand a couple of cake tiers-- God I was wound tight! Even though I had no idea what I was doing I would act like I did-- these people were paying me-- confidence brings calm but it also builds up a wall that you can hide behind when you need help. That was before baby. Look a that first cake-- I measured out the harlequin pattern with a ruler-- I drew out the plan on my computerized template.

That seems so long ago-- its hard to recognize me as a person or that cake designer. That first cake was a white cake with an italian buttercream-- I have moved on to swiss buttercream which on uses the egg whites not the whole egg and now white cake seems so boring. But that cake gave me my start. A place of reflection--oh but things have changed...

Things have changed-- its 5:16 am my daughter just walked out with swim goggles on her and her blanket- this is now my most treasured time.

The Start

So I finally did it. After years of making cakes for friends and family I letting my quiet talent out of the bag. When you first meet me I am, or at least I try, or should I say have tried to present myself as a pulled together mom, wife, corporate go to gal. However, this image has changed over the last few years. Early in life I was so focused on my career I did not allow myself to truly enjoy my role as a wife and mom or my talent.  Making cakes was just something I did and casually made comments like-- "oh, I just whipped this out." Now, I am still in the corporate world, but first and foremost I am a wife to an amazing man and mom to an amazing daughter. I have had the pleasure of making cakes and cupcakes for both.

Continuing to make cakes over the past few years has taught me grace- to loose my sense of perfectionism that has haunted me my entire life. Trust me, it still creeps up on me, but now I am making cakes because I enjoy the process, they are an expression of my artistic side given to me by my parents which I have spent the greater part of my adult life trying to snuff out. If my daughter comes wondering into the kitchen at 5:00 am-- yes we are both early risers and yes that is when I do my baking most of the time because I still do have my corporate job--and pokes her finger into the fondant which has happened more than once I know I can cover it-- a few years ago I would have yelled and given a time out. I know she just wants to help her mom.

My first cake was for a young family-- it represented so many firsts--- a little girl's first birthday, my first time working with fondant, my first time making a two tiered cake. Yes, a took a job never having opened a package of fondant or taking a formal cake class. The cake turned out fine, but looking back more than six years later, I see a cake the represents perfectionism by the harlequin pattern. They wanted a princess cake-- I would go so many other places now--however, not to bad for my first effort.