The cakepop queen

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I made almost 300 cake pops last week. I had help from my teenager. They were for her fundraiser afterall. I managed to make, package and deliver them all in a few days with only one order mistake. I officially hate the smell of cake but I have darn near perfected it and if I wasn’t so sane, I’d have me a little business. I know better though. 300 in one week is enough to make my back throw curse words in my direction for at the very least, 24 hours.

I am however, the local queen of cake pops. Even if I never want to see them again.

I feel  very fortunate in that I am really pretty good at a lot of things. I can sew. Well. I have made more costumes than I care to admit. Each one was hand sewn. Davis’ costume last year literally made my fingers bleed. It was wonderful and I will someday get his Daryl Dixon vest signed and framed. Because I love that costume, that kid and that man (hello Norman Reedus, wanna sign my vest?) I have made money for very tight Christmas’ with felt food and I have made many, many babies blankets. I can crochet. Pretty well. I can make a hat, a sweater and even pants now. I don’t always close my rounds just right but I am not embarrassed of my work. I’ve taught myself web work, I consider myself an illustrator and I am not bad behind a camera.  I am good at lots of things but I never feel  great at anything.

Maybe I am great at cake pops. I don’t know.

It’s really hard to work at things, with your whole heart and not reap what you feel the benefit of the work should be. Shouldn’t I be internet famous by now? Shouldn’t I have people beating down my door for my wares? Nope. That’s not in my cards and I get that but it doesn’t make it an easier pill to swallow.

It’s tough to do the work. Really do the work. And when you really nail it, it’s hard not to reach out for that pat on the back. But if we’re doing it for the pat, we’re just not doing it for the right reasons. That’s an even bigger pill. Damn pills.

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We bought a new car last night. It’s older than my oldest child. I wasn’t very happy about the choice but it’s bigger than the other car we looked at and seems like it maybe a good fit. But some highway shaking and tough turning says it may have issues I wasn’t prepared to deal with. I hate cars. I always have. Working for a car lot taught me more than I care to know. And it makes me anxious to know we have an older car that will need care. When we bought the van I added a package that covered all the care throughout the lease. You can’t do that with an old car, bought from a person and so now I think about all the extra costs and work that are paired with a car this age.

But we needed a car and this is the one he wanted. The benefit of it is it is a automatic where the last was a stick. My daughter, learning to drive, has enough on her plate driving in this area.. it would have been killer to then add shifting to the mix.  It’s also AWD and has more room then the last car. It will be helpful to have the trunk space for sports gear etc. Also, it’s a Honda and I know if Honda’s are well cared for, it will do it’s job for a long time. I just have to make the effort to take care of it before it goes down that old car slippery slope.

I’m trying to find the positives here. It’s hard.

Hopefully, HOPEFULLY it ends up being a wonderful car. That lasts more than a couple years. Because I hate the car buying process and I just want something to last a lifetime. I know that’s a lot to ask.


Hi! I'm Gail, the voice behind Mimicking Motherhood. I started blogging after the birth of my 2nd child as a way to connect with far away family. Things have definitely changed since then. Now, mama to five, this is a place to help connect with other mothers, who feel like me.I love to make and write all while trying to figure out how to be myself in the world of anxiety and depression. Glad you stopped by.

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