Why ten-year-olds are brilliant (or, how to save yourself from birthday cake PTSD)

Every time I set out to make a birthday cake, I tell myself that *this time* I'm going to keep it simple.  Yet inevitably, by the time the balloons have lost their helium, there will be a heap of a mom somewhere in a corner, rocking in the fetal position, swearing that never again will she decorate a cake.  It has something to do with the artist in me that refuses to keep it simple.

I have found the solution:  The Big Sister.

She has a couple friends over.  Gets creative.  Cuts the center out of one of the birthday plates, squirts some frosting around the edges, and voila!  We have a Doc McStuffins cake!

Yes, I admit that the controlling, wants-every-birthday-cake-to-be-baby-book-perfect side of me has to be talked down and told to go lock itself in the closet.

But check out the birthday girl.  Does she look even one percent miffed that I did not spend 9 hours concocting perfection?  

Nope.  She was hardly even fazed when we discovered we forgot the candles.

Oh and one more bonus--now the cake matches the plates exactly!  Nobody even guessed the secret until we lifted the picture off to serve the delicious creation.