Yesterday was my eldest sons birthday. I had everything bought and got stuck in to baking the cake he requested, but my oven is a moody beast at the best of times and decided to mess with me. Imagine PMT on steroids! (the oven, not me) And you’re about there.
So…First sponges consigned to the bin, yes with my fist print in them for good measure!! I made more.
Managed to miraculously produce 2 things which approximately resembled sponges and had a lay down! (was tempted to take the Baileys bottle with me, but got a grip instead)
Later managed to disguise the sponges to make the required “Heart Attack on a Plate Birthday Cake” using copious amounts of double cream, raspberries, strawberries and white chocolate.
Yes, I know my son turned 28 yesterday and is not my “little boy” anymore. But “the cake” has always been something I could give my boys whatever my financial situation, it was giving them some of ME. Growing up they always had the cakes their imagination and their stomachs desired.
Yesterday I spent way too many spoons just making that cake, he saw that I struggled, sweated, laid down. He never stopped me, he didn’t try and take it away from me. He let me do something that is vitally important to me…being his Mum on his birthday 
x
He sounds like a wonderful son. I was going to say boy but he isn't!
I sometimes tell my family they have to love me enough to let me struggle. Sometimes we need to do something that is hard to do just to prove we are the same people we were before PsA.
Lately I am asking for help more often. That is ok too.
Its certainly a hard balance for family members to find, to help but not to take away the tasks we need to do. Both the boys are good at helping and seem to realise the difference between an ok day and a bad day
awwwww--so sweet, Louise. Glad you were able to finish round two and not resort to Bailey's! Hope he knows he has a terrific mum.
Bless you Jane x