I make a small cake for myself almost weekly. Really, it’s kind of my stress recovery cake, made on or around what I like to call “Turnaround Wednesday,” Hope’s behaviors begin to improve after a rough start to the week. I’ve been doing reasonably well about not stressing eating since Hope got here. I’ve even dropped a few pounds. I don’t get to the gym as I’d like, but the cake is my salvo.
Hope has no interest in my cake. The first week I made it, I covered my guilt about stress baking by decorating it to celebrate our first week together. She wasn’t impressed and has never wanted a piece.
This week I made the cake on Sunday morning. #saywhatnow?
I also had the gall to root around in my pantry to find food coloring. I plucked out blue. Blue. Blue. And I started adding drops.
Now I’m looking at this stupid blue cake, thinking…I’m guessing there’s something to the fact that I made it blue. Sigh..Blue sure is how I’m feeling.
Today is our first home visit. I’ve tidied the house as much as I could, kicking myself that I agreed to do it before the housekeeper comes on Tuesday. I have no idea how it’s going to go. I’m not scared; I’m just feeling overwhelmed. I need to do my progress report this week–we’ll celebrate a month together.
Is it wrong that aspects of it don’t feel like a celebration? I’m miserable with flashes of happiness, which are appearing more like stunning moments of surprise. Those moments are so fleeting right now.
I will likely cover my blue cake with chocolate frosting. Yeah, I’m sure my therapist would have a lot to say about that “frosting as a covering” bit…but I do have blue sprinkles. I found them in the pantry too.
Maybe I’ll offer the social worker some cake later.