Domestic Goddess.

With all the baking and cleaning that went on over the weekend one may start to think I’m some sort of Domestic Goddess.

Notsomuch.

Let me tell you how the baking of the Warm Chocolate Cake went down.

Hubby arrived home from work in the afternoon. We had a chat. Lacey had been crazy all morning. She wouldn’t let me out of her reach. I even had to go to the toilet with her on my lap. It was one of those days.

I announce to Hubby that I am going to bake a cake. You’re what? He said, shooting me an odd look.

I haven’t baked in a looong time. My baking skills have been pretty much non-existent since Lacey was born, but also I don’t need a few extra slices of cake sitting on my hips at the moment. I find baking relaxing though, so it was baking I wanted to do.

Hubby said he was going downstairs. I presumed he was going downstairs to put the freshly cleaned linen on the bed. Thinking he was quite the Husband, I got to cooking with Lacey thinking he would return in ten minutes and take her off my hands.

So I set myself up. I pull out the kitchen aid and all the ingredients. I sit them on the bench. I sit Lacey on the bench next to it all.

I separate eggs. I measure. I mix. I chop. I make stealth moves to the other side of the kitchen whilst using my foot to make sure Lacey doesn’t fall.

I set the kitchen aid into motion. It’s mixing away. Lacey in intrigued by the speedy mixing mechanism. She tries to stick her hand in. A stealth movement and she is safe.

My perfect Betty Crocker / Martha Stewart moment quickly falls apart. Lacey eversokindly knocks over the sugar container. The lid falls off. Sugar goes everywhere.

I then have to decide whether to pick it up. If I do, do I leave Lacey on the bench where she can easily fall down. No. Do I put Lacey on the floor whilst sweeping it up, where she is more than likely going to play with the sugar just like it’s sand. No.

So, I just work around it. The big pile of white sugar right under my feet.

It comes time to grease and line the tin. Surely ten minutes has past. Surely the bed is made. Surely.

I go down to see where Hubby is, to hand Lacey over.

He’s asleep.

I stand on the stairs gobsmacked for 30 seconds and then return to my chaotic kitchen.

I grease and line the tin with the ‘help’ of Lacey. I pour in the mix. I put it in the oven.

Cake done.

It wasn’t easy. It certainly wasn’t fun. But that’s how the Warm Chocolate Cake making went down.

It’s very different to my pre-baby baking days. Very different indeed. xx

Image: Flickr