Birthday cake

It is a very old post but the feeling is still the same a year later...

 In this world, there are two kinds of mothers: the kind that bakes a cake for their child's birthday, and the kind that buys a cake. I am the later.

I can bake a decent cake, I can even make a relatively good apple and walnut cake, and if I try a little, my pineapple upside down cake is good enough. However for some reason, I can never make the perfect cupcakes and my brownies always come out dry. The first time I baked anything was for my 16 birthday party. My parents told me that I was free to host a birthday party as long as I took care of everything myself. Therefore I did bake a cake from scratch; I even beat the flour by hand because there was no power to use the mixer. The cake turned out great against all odds. I did some baking after that but I never considered myself to be an excellent one. And for that only, I never bake anything for my child's birthday.

What I do or what we do with my husband is going to a bakery we like and picking up a cake for a decent price. For my son's first birthday we had a cake from the Cheese cake factory my child could not care less about. I barely remember what we had for his second birthday, probably a similar cake from the same place. For his 3rd birthday, he was spoiled with three decadent cakes, one from my parents, one from my in laws and one from my husband (and two parties). For his 4th, we picked up a cake at HEB. And for his 5th, we had our favorite chocolate cake from a bakery in Yokohama (the same cake I had for my birthday and my other son's birthday as well. Yes we love that cake). I was never really disappointed with all the birthday cakes my son had and judging from the pictures, a part from his first birthday party, he was pretty happy with them as well. But sometimes I am thinking that he would be even happier if I can make a cake from scratch that is as great looking as this or as fun as this. He would see that his mother tried and did her best to make him a unique birthday cake, a tasty birthday cake that he will never forget (or at least I will have thousands of pictures to remind him of it).

I attended several birthday parties in the past, and most of them the Mother did bake the cake herself. Some had pictures of the kid in them, some were shaped like trains. I even have a girlfriend who makes amazing cakes every month during the first year of each of her children to celebrate their monthversary. Needless to say that I hate her. Those mothers are the kind of mothers who try, who will do their best to please their children. And it shows. But I am not that kind of mothers. It is not that I will not do my best to please my children. No. Last year for my first born birthday, I invited 15 of his friends, had a banner, balloons, made hot dogs and pizza (that the kids barely ate), and even hired a magician. No, for his happiness I would do anything and everything. But I know my limits. I know that there are less risks when it comes to buying a cake. Baking is just too tricky. What if it does not turn out to be the way I want? What if it does not taste as great? I will break in sweat just thinking about it. Buying is just hassle free. It is just another thing that makes the life of a mother easier. So why fret?

My son's 6th birthday is coming up soon. I had made plans to have another party but with more adults, less kids and no magician. I have been checking websites for ideas on what to do. And sometimes I just wished I was in the States so I could pick stuff from the party supply store (I love that place). But I am in Japan so I will check the Daiso 100 yen store again for party essentials and party favors. I want my son to have an original cake this year but I am not ready to bake it myself. What will I do? I have ideas: go to a special bakery and order an original cake (which may cost me an arm and a leg) or ask my dear friend (the same ones who makes cakes every month during the 1st year of each of her children) to bake me one. Either way, it has to be unforgettable (in a good way).

Privacy and or Boundary

I really neglected this blog which is sad because it was my first baby...But here I am inspired to fill its pages again after a long hiatus. And today I want to write about privacy or lack there of.

I am a private person. I like to keep to myself and I enjoy alone time reading books, listening to music or just daydreaming. I enjoy socialising as well but I am afraid of people. I spend too much time "acting" around them and I find I am at my best when I am by myself, doing me (or at least close family and friends who have seen the worse of me and decided to still love me). However all this privacy went out of the door as soon as I got kids.

My kids do not know the meaning of privacy. They will barge in my room as soon as they are awake in the morning to ask for food, for me to turn on the TV or the tablet and such. They will open the door to the bathroom while I am taking a dump and ask random questions or just get inside the shower room just because they can. It annoys me to such extreme sometimes I end up screaming at them to get away. I did tell them that sometimes Mommy wants her privacy but I guess they do not understand the meaning of it. After all, I do barge in their room in the morning to wake them up, and I am witness to their showers, going to the potty and brushing their teeth. In that sense, it is normal for them to do the same. Remember that kids follow the examples of their parents. According to them, everything I do is also okay for them to unless I told them not to.

I grew up in a family of 7 or 8 sometimes. I had both my parents, my two younger brothers, and my parents sisters or cousins or parents living in the house at some point or another. Our house was not big, we had three bedrooms: my parents room attached to me and my brothers' room (we had to go through our room to get to my parents) and my aunts room on the other side of the house. Yet my parents could get privacy if they wanted. I think that after the age of two, I never saw them naked. Actually, I am almost sure I never saw them naked. At and early age, we learned that parents were not to be disturbed when they were in their rooms particularly when they close the door. We learned that we had to knock before opening the door to the bathroom (or any other room in the house) whether someone was in it or not. And we also learn to lock the bathroom door behind us when we were using it. A parent who slept inside his room or on the sofa in the living room was not to be disturbed unless there was an emergency. We also knew that trying to talk to my mother when she was in one of her mood was suicide. We knew how to make ourselves disappear in a house that was not big enough for seven people. My parents did not respect our sense of privacy as much as we respected theirs. My mother would always barge in my room even when I was a teenager and check if everything was at its place. If not she would make unpleasant remarks that urged me to clean up. Furthermore, my father has been suspect to reading my diary at least once. I was around 10 and wrote silly things on my diary and fell asleep with it on my bed. The following day, my father told me to store the diary away before I go to bed in a way that meant "or else I will keep on reading it." That is how parents were back home in those days: when it came to your kids nothing was private. But when it came to them, they could have secrets for years and you would never find out unless they wanted you to.

Going back to my kids, I really want them to understand this concept. I want them to know that it is not okay to follow Mommy in the bathroom just because you want to. If they do not get that there are boundaries even if we live in a place where we never close the doors to any bedroom, how are they going to survive in the real world? They need to learn manners because they may repeat this same behavior at someone's house. I guess I have to stop screaming at them to get away and really teach them to have good manners. I have to sit them down and go through what is good to do and what is not. After all I am their mother and it is the least I can do.