No Cake for Bobo.

Batty wants to know, “Is that a picture of an actual cake you have encountered in person? I know it’s not the best question ever, but it’s Friday, it’s Lent, I’m fasting, and I’m HUNGRY!”

Sorry, Batty. I don’t know who made that cake, but I’m with you, it looks goooood! It was the result of a Google images search for “cake”. Because there can’t be a party without cake.

I do know how to decorate cakes, though. I worked one fateful, dreadful summer at a local bakery called The Yum Yum Shop. It was my first experience with on-the-job politics—the bakers vs. the manager. And me, part-time summer help put in the middle. “Should she have done this?” “I can’t believe she did that!” Blah. Blah. Blah.

So while the environment was dreadful, I did pay attention and learned how to decorate cakes from the cake decorating lady. I also discovered how they put the filling in donuts, how they glaze Danish pastries with such even ribbons of icing, how to roll up a jelly roll without it breaking, and how much “one of everything” would be. Yeah, pal, you’re real clever. No one’s ever asked me that before! How much for one of everything? How original!

I should point out, though that I don’t like decorating cakes all that much, but I will go the extra mile for my kids’ birthdays, but that is about it.

I’m hoping that cake was a chocolate one. I love chocolate cake! And I’ll fight you for the frosting roses!

On the home front, things are bad today. The Hub is home for the second day in a row because he doesn’t feel well, and he woke up and promptly threw up at quarter to 6 this morning. He’s been on the couch with saltines and gingerale all day.

And Emma Bo. Poor, poor, Bobo. A tale from the annals of “I’m the Worst Mother in the World.”

Lately, since she is three, Bo has decided that she won’t eat whatever it is I’m making for dinner. It doesn’t matter what it is, she doesn’t want it. She’s doing that toddler thing whereby they try to assert some control over their own lives, I get that. But I also know that fixing her a separate meal every night is setting a most annoying precedent, so I’m trying to nip it in the bud. We’ve sent her to bed hungry a few nights now, and that bites us in the ass every time because she’ll be up three times at night screaming because she’s hungry. Let’s face it, no one wins there.

So yesterday she turns her nose up at a nice pork dinner. I know she likes it since she ate her body weight in it at Easter dinner the day before. She takes a few half-hearted bites, and when I cajole her into “one more” she holds it in her mouth and doesn’t chew it.

I curse her as the stubborn little mule she is, and tell her, “Fine, don’t chew it. Hold it in your mouth all night if you want.”

I no sooner stalk off to the kitchen when Bug sets up the alarm. “MAMA! Emma just spit out her dinner! I think she might have puked! It smells like puke!”

Sure ‘nuff. Bobo had puked right in the middle of the rug. Pork, potatoes, and peas. And juice.

I of course apologized and took her off to the bathroom for a quick rinse in the tub and some clean clothes. I figured perhaps she’d just had too much candy between Sunday and Monday. I wrap her in a towel, and she’s fussing away, I assume at having to get out of the tub.

We get to the couch, I dry her off, and she hurls all over herself again, and her clean towel. Luckily, not the couch.

Again, we rinse. We dress her. She cuddles.

I went off to choir practice. She hurls again while I’m gone. I get home, more hurlage. I change her and her crib and blankets. And it repeats all night long. I didn’t give her anything to drink all night, so every two hours she was up dry-heaving. Unpleasant, but at least I didn’t have to change her every time. I called the pedi nurse and she assured me it’s a bug, it’s going around, she should be better by late this afternoon (which is now), and told me how to get and keep some fluids in her. She’s keeping a little flat ginger ale down, but not much.

She’s about to get up from her nap, and hopefully she’ll be able to keep some ginger ale down when she wakes up. If not, we have to see the doctor tomorrow.

In happy news, I finally photographed some of my FO’s that I’ll be able to list in my etsy shop this week, God willing and the creek don’t rise.

The specifics? From the top: Cotton baby sweater in Knitpicks Shine Sport. My own mix of several different raglan cardigan sweater patterns.

Purple striped purse, felted. Mostly from Cascade 220 with french knot and running stitch decoration.

Green and red striped purse with big red flower, felted. The red is Ella Rae Classic from LittleKnits, and the green is Lion Wool.

Pink and brown striped wool. The brown is Nature's Pride and the pink is vintage from elizabeth on the Knittyboard.

And finally, a peach embroidered purse from Manos del Uruguay, felted and embroidered with crewel embroidery wool left over from my mother's many projects from the '70's.

And now I have to put on my nurse’s cap and go get the sicky.

Poor Bobo.