So, in an effort to save a little bit of cash money, we decided we would plan our own party for Lily's first birthday instead of going to Chuck E. Cheese or some place like that. This would be mistake #1. Hello? Don't I read my own blog? I am the Anti-Mom. I have no business trying to plan a party. At the end of the day, I guess it turned out alright. But a lot of blood, sweat, tears, and curse words went into it. And Bugaboo? She didn't really have a clue what was going on. In fact, everyone had a pretty good time at Lily's Luau...except Lily. She didn't particularly enjoy Mommy and Daddy passing her around from stranger to stranger. She didn't appreciate us trying to dip her in cold ass water to play with the other kids in the water playground. We scared the crap out of her during the birthday song. Halfway through the party she was SO over it.

Mistake #2 would be trying to bake the cake myself. Um, hello? Do I even have the supplies to do so? That would be a big fat NO. As evidenced by the non non-stick pans I used to bake the cake...



...and the cheese knife and rice spatula I used to spread the frosting.



Oh, and did I mention those non non-stick pans weren't the same size?



Steve said, "Just play it off like it's supposed to be a tiered cake. Like you did it on purpose."



Did I do this on purpose too? Exactly what letter is that supposed to be again?



Steve said it looked like a stick figure missing one arm.

Despite all this, the finished product wasn't that bad - if you stood five feet away and kind of squinted your eyes. Once the deed was done and I had wiped the sweat and frosting from my face, I was about to pat myself on the back when I realized...



I put the mutha effing cake on a ghetto ass cookie sheet! Why oh why hadn't I thought to at least lay some pretty doilies over it? But I wasn't about to try and move the cake to another, more presentable dish and risk having it fall or whathaveyou. So the cake got revealed as is on party day, in all its ghetto fabulous glory.

At one point during the whole baking biznazz, after sending my friend a dozen texts asking for help, she texted back, "Wait...isn't this just a boxed cake?" Um, yeah.

That's why next year it's all about Chuck E. Cheese and Baskin Robins ice cream cake. For real. I better start saving now.

Labels: anti-mom antics, parent 'hood