Yesterday was a special day: it was Natalie's baptism and Patrick's birthday. In an effort to get our home "company ready," I spent most of last week cleaning, scrubbing, straitening, and shopping. By Saturday, my house looked good. Really good. Dust bunnies were banished, stains were bleached away, and my parquet floors sparkled.
Most of my Saturday was spent cooking. I made a huge pot of chicken noodle soup and two smaller pots of sun-dried tomato chicken and broccoli soup (practically fat and carb free!). Three burners were on at once as I juggled a hungry baby, movers coming in to deliver our new bed and a recliner, chicken that needed to be picked, and my ever-full mug of coffee. I was covered in spit-up and home made chicken stock.
Once the soups were cooked and stored safely in the refrigerator, I knew that I still had to make Patrick's birthday cake. His request? Orange cake with an orange cream cheese icing. Unfortunately, it was nearing bedtime and my kitchen was a mess. FACT: I CANNOT COOK OR BAKE IN A MESSY KITCHEN.
It would have been so much easier to whip the cake together and then to clean up everything while it was baking, but no. I psychologically cannot do that. Ever.
By the time I was ready to start baking, Patrick was begging me to just forget the cake because we were both exhausted and he knew that I would be really cranky the next morning if I stayed up any later. Stubbornly, I put my foot down and said that I would make that cake if it killed me.
I did make it, and I cleaned the kitchen, polished my floors, and flipped a load of laundry while it baked. While it cooled, I took a shower (FINALLY!). When I finally went to take it out of the pans for the night (around 11:30 PM), the bottoms STUCK to the pan. I know that I sprayed the pans well, but the bottoms held fast and then came away leaving me with destruction where there should have been beauty. This had never happened to me before, and I was disappointed that we were now cake-less for Patrick's birthday, but I did not let it get me down. Usually, I tend to get very emotional when I am tired and catastrophe strikes, but surprisingly I was very calm.
Then, it came to me. TRIFLE!
It seems that whenever a dessert doesn't go quite right, I make a trifle out of it. Like the time I forgot to add vegetable oil to a cake mix when I was pregnant--I took the dry cake, poured raspberry jello on one side, lemon on the other, let it set, and then made a trifle with whipped cream . . . it was a huge hit!
So, instead of sleeping on Saturday night (either the baby cried or the cat pounced on me whenever I dozed off), my mind was cooking up schemes for a delicious filling. Since Patrick had purchased an extra box of vanilla pudding, I decided that I would soften and whip the cream cheese, add the vanilla pudding to it, pour in some powdered sugar, squeeze in some fresh orange juice, and grate in some zest. Once that was done, I added a few drops of food coloring to make it the color of an orange creamsicle. Oh YUM!
I was reminded of two things:
1. Don't cry over spilt milk. Sometimes you can make it look like it never spilled at all, so why waste time and energy worrying about it. Even if you can't fix a situation--who cares? In my case, I could have run to the store for a pre-made cake and the only person judging me for doing so would have been ME.
2. Just as I can sometimes make something good out of a mistake, God can always take our struggles and failures and turn them into things which will bring Him great glory.
P.S. I forgot to add . . . despite having had almost no sleep in 48 hours, I was thankful to God that I was NOT cranky on Sunday. That in and of itself was a huge blessing!
Most of my Saturday was spent cooking. I made a huge pot of chicken noodle soup and two smaller pots of sun-dried tomato chicken and broccoli soup (practically fat and carb free!). Three burners were on at once as I juggled a hungry baby, movers coming in to deliver our new bed and a recliner, chicken that needed to be picked, and my ever-full mug of coffee. I was covered in spit-up and home made chicken stock.
Once the soups were cooked and stored safely in the refrigerator, I knew that I still had to make Patrick's birthday cake. His request? Orange cake with an orange cream cheese icing. Unfortunately, it was nearing bedtime and my kitchen was a mess. FACT: I CANNOT COOK OR BAKE IN A MESSY KITCHEN.
It would have been so much easier to whip the cake together and then to clean up everything while it was baking, but no. I psychologically cannot do that. Ever.
By the time I was ready to start baking, Patrick was begging me to just forget the cake because we were both exhausted and he knew that I would be really cranky the next morning if I stayed up any later. Stubbornly, I put my foot down and said that I would make that cake if it killed me.
I did make it, and I cleaned the kitchen, polished my floors, and flipped a load of laundry while it baked. While it cooled, I took a shower (FINALLY!). When I finally went to take it out of the pans for the night (around 11:30 PM), the bottoms STUCK to the pan. I know that I sprayed the pans well, but the bottoms held fast and then came away leaving me with destruction where there should have been beauty. This had never happened to me before, and I was disappointed that we were now cake-less for Patrick's birthday, but I did not let it get me down. Usually, I tend to get very emotional when I am tired and catastrophe strikes, but surprisingly I was very calm.
Then, it came to me. TRIFLE!
It seems that whenever a dessert doesn't go quite right, I make a trifle out of it. Like the time I forgot to add vegetable oil to a cake mix when I was pregnant--I took the dry cake, poured raspberry jello on one side, lemon on the other, let it set, and then made a trifle with whipped cream . . . it was a huge hit!
So, instead of sleeping on Saturday night (either the baby cried or the cat pounced on me whenever I dozed off), my mind was cooking up schemes for a delicious filling. Since Patrick had purchased an extra box of vanilla pudding, I decided that I would soften and whip the cream cheese, add the vanilla pudding to it, pour in some powdered sugar, squeeze in some fresh orange juice, and grate in some zest. Once that was done, I added a few drops of food coloring to make it the color of an orange creamsicle. Oh YUM!
I was reminded of two things:
1. Don't cry over spilt milk. Sometimes you can make it look like it never spilled at all, so why waste time and energy worrying about it. Even if you can't fix a situation--who cares? In my case, I could have run to the store for a pre-made cake and the only person judging me for doing so would have been ME.
2. Just as I can sometimes make something good out of a mistake, God can always take our struggles and failures and turn them into things which will bring Him great glory.
P.S. I forgot to add . . . despite having had almost no sleep in 48 hours, I was thankful to God that I was NOT cranky on Sunday. That in and of itself was a huge blessing!
1 comment:
Great story and great leason for all of us. Patrick is a very blessed man...and you can tell him that. :)
A humble friend,
BD
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