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What a weekend!

November 23, 2009

As you may have noticed I don’t usually get to blog on the weekends. Not unless Principe is either working or I wrestled the computer out of his hands and promise him some silence during his soccer game whilst I rapidly blog something out before he asked for it back in order to make a bet on the game. Yes, he bets. We can get into that later….

If I had blogged on Friday before or during spending 3 hours in the ER with Queenie the tone of my blog post would have been a bit depressing, yet still optamistic. If I had blogged after the ER visit it would have been tired and I would have spent much of my time complaining about the long wait since there were only 7 kids in the pediatric waiting room while raving about the good organization of Gregorio Maranon in making a separate waiting room for possible Swine flu patients. I might also have mentioned a small worry that I caught something anyway in the 90 degree waiting room since my throat was scratchy. If I had blogged on Saturday morning I would have been optamistic. Until around 12 o’clock when the 3 vanilla cake came out of the oven and immediately fell to about 1 centimeter thick. The post at that moment would have been blotched with tears. Saturday night I wouldn’t have blogged since I would partying with my two year old daughter and one year old niece along with 7 other children who brought with them their two parents. A grea time was had by all. And the cake ended up working out. Quite a success even if it wasn’t what I had envisioned from the beginning. But with a lot of frosting people will eat anything!  See the picture? Yeah, I’m great, I know. But what you don’t know is that Friday afternoon I had spent 6 hours with a whiny child trying to make the bottom and top layer of the cake. The chocolate, strangely enough, turned out light and fluffy and wonderful. The vanilla, the recipe I spoke of before that takes forever and a day to make, fell flat. So I made another one from a tried and true recipe. It finished just as we decided to take Queenie to the hospital for an ear infection. When we came home it was about a centimeter thick also. I almost throw a knife through the gallery door. Instead I contented myself  on slamming the dishwasher door a few times since it wasn’t working either and ate  my Cherrios in dissapointed silence. Principe convinced me to go to bed and make another one in the morning. It was 2 am by that time.

We all woke up at 9 am after a very bad night of sleep and I immediately set off to make another cake. I had just enough ingredients left and was excited that THIS TIME IT WAS GOING TO WORK. Why I didn’t think of just making another chocolate I will never know. Stubborn, bull-headed grandma in me.

And the cake fell flat. I cried. And cried. And tried desperately not to smash a glass into the floor. And cried a little more. Queenie saw me and hugged my legs. Principe hugged me and said he was sure I would make it work and where was the grocery list of the things we need for the party?

I made it work. And only served the chocolate part to the guest. The decoration was the hit, really, and the frosting since Spanairds don’t use frosting. All four pregnant ladies at the party were delighted. But this pregnant lady is now stuck eating half-raw cake that is chewy and too toasted on the bottom to be called cake really, but tastes like vanilla so it is sort of okay. But I am stuck doing this for another 2 cakes since Queenie won’t touch it and Principe claims he is on a diet as he finished off his second beer of the night. If only I could throw food away…..instead I eat it and get fat and then complain about how two of the pregnant ladies at the party were in their 38th week and looked amazing! Really, one had only gained 13 pounds and the other had gained 16. I smiled and complemented them, but really jsut wanted to scream and dunk their heads into toilet water. But the music at the party (oldies from our childhoods) made my temperment a bit more controlled and sweeter than it would have been after the trying day. On the other hand, the party was a hit. Did I say that already?

Of course, then there was Sunday. The morning was filled with us wiping Queenie’s snot leaking nose and putting together her tricycle. Many swear words were screamed by Principe as he is not a tinkering sort of guy and has a hard time putting things together that require tools. But it was finally together and the water main was turned back on (did I mention it was turned off for 3 hours without warning? Awesome.) and we hauled ourselved outside to take our sick child for a walk. She rode her tricycle to the park but had to walk home. We lied and told her grandparents she rode it all the way there and all the way back.

Sunday evening was spent with my SIL and niece while the brothers played padel. I was promised up and down by Principe that he would take care of Queenie while I went to the gym, but since she wasn’t feeling well by 8pm he asked me to stay and put her to bed. By 10pm she was sleeping. The gym closed at 10.

And today my throat hurts. But really, besides all of this the party was so much fun. So many people came and it went on for about 4 hours. The kids all got sugar highs from eating too much Nutella and cake and suckers. Queenie didn’t eat anything except for the green sucker next to the lion on the cake. Wouldn’t touch her cupcake. And it had to be the green one next to the lion. What a strange child. After the party she ate a plain scrambled egg and drank a glass of water. Wouldn’t even touch the potato chips at the party. Antibiotics do strange things to my daughter.

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2 Comments leave one →
  1. November 23, 2009 3:58 pm

    When lying to grandparents, don’t post the lie on your blog. Sort of self defeating.

    • wideopenworld permalink*
      November 24, 2009 6:07 pm

      They don’t read it, so they won’t know…but you are right!

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