The Cerebral Mum

So now, after writing about my neurotic lack of coping with the first birthday party, I should probably record here what the party was actually like.

It was held here at Big Sis’ house in the front yard and there was no need to worry about rain. The weather caused a me a little concern, though. 33° (92° fahrenheit) is way above the average for October and raised the spectre of last year’s bushfire season, which burned out 1.1 million hectares. Later, watching California burn, I couldn’t help but think of the continuing drought and what may come with the summer.

After collapsing into bed the night before without finishing all my preparations, there was a lot to do in the morning but between Big Sis, B and I, nearly everything was done on time and Caspar was kept amused outside by B’s twins and the Jolly Jumper Big Sis and B had bought him for his birthday. The kids were impatient for the party to start and I locked them out of the house while I decorated the cake I shouldn’t have put off making to the day of the party.

When P (the other half of The Odd Couple in the house behind us) arrived with his two girls, we fired up the BBQ straight away although nobody else was here yet. The kids had been patient and were hungry. I had taken the little red table I bought secondhand as part of Caspar’s birthday gift of crayons and drawing pads outside and all the children sat around him there, fussing over him and playing with his hair, as girls are wont to do.

Caspar, like the far-too-advanced boy he is, sat on his yellow chair and fed himself, not at all bemused by the female attention. He has become accustomed to it. Indeed, I think he expects it. Not long after that a couple of my friends arrived and took a seat in our circle of big-people chairs. I, of course, flapped around a little trying to make sure everyone had something to eat and drink, not quite relaxed yet.

One thing I have been consistently amazed by since becoming a mother is how many hands and eyes are there to divert and watch over Caspar while I try to get things done. This assistance seems to be instinctual on the part of parents and non-parents alike and it is carried out so graciously that there is no need for words. I read so often of mothers, especially single mothers, overwhelmed by their parenthood so I must believe myself fortunate in this respect but I can’t help thinking that this is the way it should be. I do not think the days of community in childrearing are dead and gone.

So I had a chance to sit and talk and eat while Caspar belonged to everybody.

And then, of course, the cake. With the wind, it was impossible to keep the lone candle lit but it didn’t matter. Caspar would not have been able to blow it out anyway. He could, however, recognise that the slightly sad looking giraffe with its bright yellow icing was something good to eat and we had to move it away to be dished out as he tried to grab the whole lot of it for himself.

Not long after that, the children went home and Caspar went down for a nap, pink in spite of slathers of sunscreen and warm in just his nappie and a singlet. My friends and I cleared away the dishes outside and sat in the lounge talking over a glass of wine. Later, K, the friend that I had lost, arrived and I woke Cas from his sleep so they could meet each other. A bit bleary eyed and wobbly, it didn’t take him long to start turning on his charm and show off all his skills, running around, waving, clapping his hands and putting his hands on his head. And my favourite… Dancing. He’s been head-banging since before he could sit up, and his repertoire of moves just keeps growing. He can move up and down, shift his weigh from foot to foot as he sways, stomp, writhe and spin around in circles. He’s got rhythm and whenever he hears music, he starts rocking.

And then of course, the afternoon grew late and it was time for people to leave but it was lovely having that quiet time with my three friends, and Caspar loved having all the company. There were no tears and no stress on his part.

We had a quiet evening, B cooking up the last of the meat on the BBQ and Big Sis and Cas and I eating with him at the table in the garage as the sun went down and the air cooled. Caspar sat at the big table with us, for the first time in the portable booster seat which was my first birthday present from Big Sis and B.

I tasted the cake then, a recipe I hadn’t used before but I had been assured by the party guests that it was good. I wasn’t too impressed with the giraffe I had made, but for a first effort, without any guiding instructions, it was good enough. I’m sure the cakes I make will get fancier as the years go by. Until the day Caspar tells me to stop making him such silly things. One day he will be protective of his young man’s dignity.

The cake was good! I mean, really good! And so easy. I used a simple tea cake recipe (3 quantities) and blended it in the food processor. It only took 5 minutes. Try it at home and just brush it with some butter then sprinkle on a layer of cinnamon or coffee sugar. Because, really, virulent yellow icing is not that appealing to adults.

Tea Cake

60g butter
1 tsp vanilla essence
1/2 cup castor sugar
1 egg
1 cup self raising flour
1/3 cup milk

Cream butter and essence. Add sugar, then egg, and mix until creamy. Add flour and milk and mix until smooth. Bake in a moderate oven for 25 minutes.