Cupcake Sheep & Barnyard Chaos
Some pictures make me smile no matter how heavy my heart is. This picture is one of those because that day I loved Rick Curtis even more than I thought possible. This story is an example of how the simple, trivial things we do for one another can have a significant impact on our partners’ lives. It requires little effort yet has the potential for an enormous impact. This is one of those things that I miss most about him. The dozens of “little things” he did for his people every day that showed us that we were not only cherished, but that we mattered.
When our oldest grandchild was born in 2005, a tradition was started in our family. I was to make the first birthday cake. To be clear, I am not a professional cake decorator, nor am I artistic. It was always an exercise in humility as I tried to make the cake match the picture on Pinterest. I had a couple of epic fails, which was great for a good laugh at my expense. But there were also triumphant cake decorating moments. With it came the realization that it wasn’t the cake, but the moments leading up to it that made them memorable.
It was Elliott Richard’s 1st birthday, he was the fourth grandchild, which meant I had a few attempts at cakes before his. He was Bri’s second child and so much like her in personality and I always thought he looked a lot like his Papa. I have written about Elliott before when he was my little shadow through the first few days after Rick died, never leaving my side. He continues to be an empathetic soul, who is kind and compassionate with a hilarious sense of humor that has kept us all on our toes, especially when he was a toddler. He loved to do “spearaments” and on more than one occasion created a massive clean up effort on our parts.
My favorite story is when as a three-year-old, Elliott proudly asked his mama to see what he just made. “Mama, I made a waterfall! It’s so cool, come see!”
Bri could not figure out how he made a waterfall, that was until he led her inside the house by the hand, grinning ear to ear. As she neared the bathroom her worst thought was confirmed, water was flowing out from under the bathroom door. As he opened the door, there was Elliott’s amazing “spearament” a waterfall he created by using the stopper in the bathroom sink and blocking the overflow with a folded washcloth. As the sink overflowed, it cascaded over the front of the cabinets and onto the floor! In Elliott’s opinion, it was just like a “real” waterfall.
Bri has always been a saint when it comes to being a mom. She puts most of us to shame with her ability to remain patient and calm, even when she wanted to throttle him. She did not. Together they mopped up the water all over the bathroom floor and she explained to him why that isn’t an experiment that should be repeated. Then, she showed him how he could make a waterfall outside, although I’m sure it wasn’t as exciting to him as making one in the bathroom so everyone could enjoy it even on a rainy day.
In typical fashion as a midwife, it didn’t matter what I had planned, the babies came when they wanted: first birthday parties be damned. It wasn’t uncommon to have a Plan B in place or to reschedule our plans all together because babies do what they want and will take their sweet time doing so. I had been gone thirty-six hours while attending two beautiful births. I was so relieved when I knew that I would make it home in time to get Elliott’s cake decorated with little time to spare. His party was in a few short hours. I needed to shower, bake the cake and cupcakes, and even though I was exhausted, I was excited and honored to make his first cake. Needless to say, my stress level was a bit higher than normal, excited, or not. I rarely stressed about such things, but this was after all the first birthday cake. It was important! Did I mention I wasn’t a cake decorator?
My memory flashed back to Elliott’s big sister, Kylie’s first birthday cake and I shuddered. Suddenly my angst skyrocketed at the failed cake. The kids didn’t want me to use red dye and I respected their wishes and thought I would be creative and make a Lady Bug cake using juice from berries. Not realizing that the juice would make the frosting runny. Let’s just say that was one of those Pinterest failures that we all share with our friends while laughing a tiny bit too hard. While the shape looked like a ladybug, the frosting never got “red,” so we were stuck with a pink ladybug and most of the frosting quickly ran off of it leaving the white cake exposed. Yes, it was that bad.
When I walked through the door I was already worrying about how long this cake would realistically take me. I had a feeling as usual, I had bit off more than I could chew and before long, I would be in tears frustrated at my lack of skills to equal the adorable picture from Pinterest. Within seconds of walking in the door, the heavenly smell of fresh cupcakes in the oven instantly put some of my worries at ease. I smiled; how could I ever doubt that this man wouldn’t come through for me?
I was so thankful that Rick anticipating my stress level had already made the cake batter and was just pulling out a batch of cupcakes from the oven. The batter for the barn was waiting for me. I had tried to find a cake pan shaped like a barn but was unable. So, I was going to have to cut it into a barn shape and my art skills were severely lacking. He reminded me that there was no way he was going to attempt that in case he made a mistake, and I would turn into a blubbering mess. But, in all honesty his attempt would easily be better than my attempts.
I think of the other times he tried to be helpful and failed. He always tried no matter what my reaction might be. Yes, most men would give up on trying to help years ago. I am a lucky woman; my Rick didn’t give up easily. Either he was over the moon in love with me or he wasn’t a very smart man and was a glutton for punishment.
Regardless, I was always thrilled to have him on my side.
While I was preparing to cut the cake into the barn shape, I recognized my inability to draw anything other than stick figures and even those were unrecognizable. What was I thinking? As the realization came that I bit off more than I could chew, I burst into tears and threw myself into his arms sobbing. I was overwhelmed, exhausted, and emotionally spent from the two long births I had attended. Normally, I would not have that type of reaction, but when I am tired all bets are off for clearheaded thinking. Once my incoherent blubbering had subsided, Rick calmly suggested I jump in the shower to help refreshen and wake me up. The cupcakes and cake could cool off a bit more and would be ready for frosting when I came down.
By the time I got out of the shower and dressed, I had a fresh pot of coffee waiting to go along with my fresh new attitude. Cutting the barn template was more difficult than I imagined. It’s no surprise this sent me into more tears, more blubbering about ruining Elliott’s first birthday. I realized a bit too late this was an advanced skill that I didn’t have, especially when being sleep deprived. I’m sure Rick had grown tired of my tears, but he remained steadfast, and didn’t flinch when I used his shirt to wipe my nose, while I gathered myself yet again. This was one of those moments when his love for me clouded his common sense. He would do anything to get me to stop crying including joining me on my personal episode of “Cake Decorating Gone Wild.”
His voice conveying confidence instantly calmed my jagged nerves and was music to my ears as he said easily, “Babe, let me help you.”
Until I realized he hadn’t touched cake decorating tips since high school when he was in home economics! Incredulously, I stared at him. Seriously? The man could only cook from a box, he burned the food anytime he grilled, he burned bacon, and sometimes even water. I giggled but refrained from allowing my thoughts out of my mouth. He continued, “we can do it together. Tell me where to put the marshmallows and coconut on the cupcakes, then you can work on the barn.”
He always knew exactly what to say and do. Always.
I took a deep breath and figured out how long each one would take and with Rick’s help I knew we could pull it off in time.
At first it was a bit of a shit show, but we figured it out together. He chuckled as he congratulated himself that he was, “really good at making cupcake sheep!” Which I wholeheartedly agreed!
No, it wasn’t perfect.
It was a bit messy, there was some swearing, and a bit more laughing as we fumbled our way through making cupcake sheep, chicks, and pigs. I couldn’t get the barn to be a nice red color because Bri didn’t want me to use red food coloring. So, I had to improvise settling for a brown barn instead of the traditional red. When it was finished I thought we had done a respectable job and was proud of our team effort.
I marveled at the fact that this sweet cake is a fitting example of our perfectly imperfect life together. We were a bit of a shit show. We were messy with some swearing, but we could accomplish anything as a team.
I took a picture for proof that we “Nailed It!”