Black and White Cupcakes

Here are my black and white cupcakes that I made for Thanksgiving. These are chocolate cupcakes with chocolate buttercream frosting, topped with white modeling chocolate flowers.


And, since every yin needs its yang, here are vanilla cupcakes with vanilla buttercream, topped with semi-sweet modeling chocolate flowers.

And this, ladies and gentlemen, is the first cake I've made for someone outside my own family. It's far from perfect, I know, but it was so much fun to make.

Happy Lynyrd Skynryd Birthday!

Have Your Cupcakes

And eat them, too.



I like cupcakes.

I like making teeny tiny flowers from modeling chocolate.

I also like to put those teeny tiny flowers on teeny tiny cupcakes. But you'll have to wait for tomorrow to see pictures of my black and white cupcakes.

So, to ease the pang of waiting, I will show you my very first attempt at buttercream "roses." (I put the quotes in so you'd know what they're supposed to be.) Ahem.

My cake obsession this week has taught me a few things. One, consistency. My chocolate buttercream frosting was so thick, I'm telling you I may have gotten carpal tunnel from trying to pipe the icing on. My vanilla buttercream that I used for my roses may have been too thin. At least, that's my explanation for the blobular appearance of my roses.

Aaaannnnnd...I could probably use more practice with buttercream, as opposed to fondant or modeling chocolate. (Not that my modeling skillz rock, just that they're ever so slightly much better than my piping skills.) I'll just have to look for more excuses to bake cake.

Also? I need to learn to just say no to the leftover icing in the bowl. And in the piping bag. And on the knife.

I need help.

Finally!

For the first time in the 6 years the Rev and I have been married, this happened:




That, ladies and gentlemen, is the Rev putting up Christmas lights.

Woo hoo!

Top ten signs you live with a toddler:



10. Your front entryway is permanently transformed into the Island of Sodor.



9. Nap time is golden.



8. You frequently excuse yourself from the company of other adults with the explanation: "Mommy has to go potty now."

7. Your only source of news is the Internet, as your television has been taken over by Mickey, Really Useful Engines, the Movers, Elmo and Handy Manny.

6. Buckets become drums. Shovels become drumsticks.

5. You find trains in your pantry. And your linen closet.

4. You have to check your master bathtub for books before filling it up.

3. The relaxing bath you were planning is accompanied by the following:
"Mama! MAMA!"
"Mommy's in here, Wiggle Man."
"B? BEEEEEE?"
"No, this bath is NOT for baby. This is for MOMMY."
"PulEASE?"
"I'm glad you asked nicely, but the answer is still no."

2. You give up on the "relaxing bath", because getting out is more relaxing than being in.

1. You and your husband no longer quote clever movies to each other; instead you quote from the Thomas The Tank Engine episodes narrated by Alec Baldwin. Alec Baldwin explaining how a jet engine works is hysterical.

Rock Star!

A first here at Rev and The Missus: video! (Oooh! Ahhh!)

Here's Wiggle Man, showing off his "skills" (or is it "skillz"?) for some friends. Notice the authentic rock star finish. (Minus the pyrotechnics, of course. )

Puggies!

Yep. Wiggle Man loves his "puggies". Especially a whole patch of "puggies."



"Puggy", for the uninitiated, is Wiggle Speak for "pumpkin".



Of course, teeny pumpkins work so well on top of cupcakes.

Especially when they're teeny tiny fondant pumpkins.

Yum!

Thanks to The Frosted Cake 'n Cookie for the how-to on the cupcake toppers!

Like Mommy

Wiggle Man continues to enjoy the same culinary delights as I do:

That, my friends, is how grilled cheese sandwiches should be served. With ketchup. Yup, I've got my son hooked on the red stuff, just like me.

Besides, what's cuter than a toddler with a ketchup beard?

Cutting your sandwich in quarters makes dipping so much better. And it lets you arrange your sandwich around your big blob of ketchup.

In other news, further confirmation that I am, indeed, the mother of a toddler:

Yes, our little Picasso has taken to decorating our walls. We had a nice, long, civilized discussion last night on why we don't draw on the walls. Yeeeeeeeeeeahhhhhhhhhhhhhh. That lasted until this morning, when I caught him at it again.

Sigh.

Remember

In Flanders Fields the poppys blow

Between the crosses, row on row,

That mark our place; and in the sky

The larks, still bravely singing, fly

Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the dead. Short days ago

We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,

Loved, and were loved, and now we lie

In Flanders Fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:

To you from failing hands we throw

The torch; be yours to hold it high.

If ye break faith with us who die

We shall not sleep, though poppies grow

In Flanders Fields.

~Lt.-Cnl. John McCrae (1872-1918)

Photo by: http://www.flickr.com/photos/__olga__/ / CC BY-NC 2.0

In honour and thanks for those who served and are serving.

Sundays

I love Sundays in our house.

In the morning we head off to worship with our fellow Finanegans (no, not some crazy cult, just my fun name for the people of our church).

Afternoons are when we kick back, relax, and enjoy our Sabbath. Right now that means comfy clothes, football, easy meals and maybe a trip to the park.

Since I started writing this post, Wiggle Man has waltzed around the living room with a basket over his head, he has put plastic "eggies" in an yellow egg carton (very confusing, since the colour yellow is also pronounced "eggie") and is, at this moment, going through my china cabinet. One moment, please.

He made a valiant attempt to look contrite, but I don't believe it for a minute.

I think I'll grab some leftover Hallowe'en candy and a comfy blanket, and enjoy my two favourite guys.

Conversations

Had you been in our living room this evening, you may have overheard the following conversation:



Me: Wiggle Man, who are the people who love you?



Wiggle Man: Mama!



Me: Yes, Mama loves you. Who else?



Wiggle Man: Dada!



Me: Yes. Who else?



Wiggle Man: Elmo!


Apparently, Wiggle Man hasn't forgotten this:

Of course, Wiggle Man will also tell you that milk loves him. So I'm not sure he's really got the concept. Oh well.

Cake!

I did it. I finished the cake, in time for the Finanekids' party yesterday.

No matter that it took wayyyy longer than I expected. No matter that (almost) each leaf is strategically placed to hide a mistake.



Still, it was a lot of fun. I think I learned a little more about making my own fondant, gum paste and royal icing. Hopefully, when I try it again, things will go a little quicker.



I wonder if anyone actually ate the mice.

Their tails did not survive being put on the cake. I'll just blame that on the farmer's wife and her carving knife.