Happy Birdday, Dan

I like the tradition of making your kids make their own birthday desserts.  It doesn't have to be cake- you can stick a candle in most anything.  Unless they want birthday soup for dessert, in which case you'd have to float some tea lights in it.

Daniel has decision making anxiety so I had to help him out with what I was craving what he really wanted to eat on his special day.  And he chose that yummy ice cream cake that my mother-in-law made for my father-in-law one time before we even had any kids.  He knew that's what he wanted once I pulled the file from my foodographic memory.  I can remember just about every meal I've ever made or eaten and who provided it.  That includes every baked ziti we received when Eve was sick with the cancer.  I know who makes the best baked pasta in the greater-Raleigh area.  I stored these files in my head long before we were Instagramming our sustenance.

It was messy because there were not only many forms of chocolate, but also caramel, ice cream, and generic whipped topping.  I didn't bother cleaning my kitchen before hand because that would be like telling Daniel to spend five minutes in his room left to his own devices right after I've spent an hour organizing it.  Just make your mess.  It's your day.  I've got two hands- one for the cleaning rag, the other for the glass of wine I need to make me want to use the cleaning rag.



It was an all-out effort to create a dessert which needed three people to unwrap endless packages of sticky, melty stuff but they rocked it.  Like champs.  And then they didn't even recycle.  Like a Christmas party, when you probably should recycle because of the sheer amount of beverage bottles but then you're like, hey, it's a party.  I can't be going all Captain Planet on my guests.  I'm too busy trying to find the corkscrew that my guests WILL NOT LEAVE WITH THE WINE BOTTLES.

You now have six months to practice leaving the corkscrew where it naturally belongs.



This cake was amazing.  I say I don't like sweets, but I would totally eat this cake after a 4th meal at Taco Bell.  Then I would probably Instagram it/go into a diabetic coma/pee my pants with joy.



Happy birthday to Daniel, who is already getting people wishing him a happy birthday on Facebook, all of which apparently think my kids are on there hashtagging it up like rock stars.  #happy7thbdaytome

We had an Angry Birds birthday party for Dan after he returned from a weekend Angry Birds Cub Scout camping trip with Matt where Dan was so Angry Birds that he Angry Birds all over himself.  #angrybirds

Daniel painted all these tin cans to make them look like bag piggies.  Then we threw stuff at them.  That's what you do when you went on a Spaghetti-O's binge.



We had pin the tail on the angry bird.  I like this picture because it goes to show that I am only the second worst person at pin the random body part on the random poster.



I had a line full of children wanting me to do this to their face.



Temporary tattoos.  Not getting socked in the face.

And then there is this picture, which I'm not really sure what is going on but I like it:


He must have gotten confused as to what was going on in the tattoo line.

Tattoos on foreheads.  No fists on foreheads.



NO FISTS ON FOREHEADS.


(She actually got into a fight with her bed.  Just in time for a house full of guests to eye us suspiciously while we swear up, down, and all around that the bed beat her.)

CAAAAAAKE.



The girls helped me with this cake while Dan was camping.  I am surprised that no one put a fist in someone else's forehead. #angrybirdsangrygirlsangrymommydon'tyoudareknockthatcakeover



This picture is why I need to get more sleep.