Whilst I am waiting for Gracie's birthday pictures to post her birthday party story (because I literally only took three. Oi...) I thought I would regale you with the story of how her smash cake brought me to tears and insanity.
This is the cake I set out to make. I was going to make it different colors and smaller but this is the general idea of the cake I was planning to make.
Pretty simply right? But still cute?
It all started out so well. I decided I wanted the cake part to be colored
See that dark pinky swirl thing? That's the color of the frosting on the left below.
Then I started with the icing while the cakes were baking.
I got the colors I wanted, with a little variation:
My Camera made them a little more orangey than they actually were. Promise you these are shades of coral and pink lol.
See? Frosting looks promising.
Well, the cakes turned out horrible. I over-filled them in my tiredness and they had a weird lip on them that I couldn't fix without cutting off half the cake. So I left them.
And because I completely forgot that she would need a cake for SMASH pictures, and didn't remember till 10 o'clock at night--that meant that her cake would only have about 30 minutes to cool before I iced them. Because I refused to stay up past midnight for this crap. (I had no idea what I was getting myself into...)
Hey, I put them in the freezer.
That bit me in the butt because that pink swirly one? Yah, that fell APART. I mean a zillion pieces everywhere when I flipped it out of the pan.
One cake down.
I decided that wasn't a big deal because she didn't need to be a two layer cake.
The coral one turned out great so I still had one cake.
I put the icing in the piping bag and went at it and it was going great...
Weeelll... I was about meh...3/4 of the way done when I ran out of frosting.
Turns out you need a LOT of frosting to do those little swirly things. Who knew? Not me.
So I tried to make more frosting that matched the shade. BUT I RAN OUT OF CONFECTIONERS SUGAR. So, the logical thing to do? Use flour. Because half of the cake was done and I would just make sure she didn't eat the other half? Logical, I know.
Well, didn't matter because that brilliant plan didn't work. I tried to pipe it on and it just ran down the sides on to my beautifully piped swirlies-ruining them all.
So I did what any logical person would do: I just iced the whole dang thing flat. It still had a cool ombre effect just in flat frosting.
I had read somewhere that if you use a hot knife it makes the frosting smoother. So I just ran it under some hot water and tried to smooth everything out so it looked all professional.
HA HA HA. NEVER EVER DO THAT. It made the frosting so...squishy and runny.
Remember that lip thing on the cake I was telling you about? That came back to bite me as well: the already questionable frosting started FALLING off the sides of the cake.
I kept trying to smooth it out, and re-apply the falling frosting, trying to get it to work, but alas, it didn't.
By this time it was 3 in the morning.
I was so ticked off that I SLAMMED that thing in the trash. I literally mean slammed. There was frosting on the trash can, on our laundry hamper, on the floor, on the stove...EVERYWHERE.
I went in to the bedroom (where Daniel was sleeping) slouched down on the bed and started BAWLING. I mean, sobs here people. Obviously I woke Daniel up with my woe.
I told Daniel that I was a horrible mother because I couldn't even frost a dang cake.
He logically said, it didn't matter and that I could just go buy her one in the morning before the shoot.
I accused him of trying to poison our daughter with Red 40 and other nasty stuff that's in store bought frostings. I told him that all the other mothers (?) would be homemaking their kids cakes and how pathetic I was that I couldn't even frost one.
Did I mention I was delirious and two sheets to the wind?
Then he said she didn't need a cake, that her pictures would be cute without it.
I cried to him "No! SHE NEEDS a cake, Daniel. She NEEDS it. All the other kids have smash cakes and she won't have one. And when she is older she is going to wonder why she didn't have one and it will be all my fault and she will hate me."
After a few more tears and rubbing of my back and telling me Gracie wouldn't hate me over a cake--I went to bed...and woke up and promptly felt like a royal butt head and more than a little embarrassed.
Next year I am hiring someone to do this crap.
I can make cupcakes. I can't make cakes.
I cannot frost cakes.
I am not Martha Freaking Stewart.