About Me

This blog is about me and my voyage to becoming a mummy. Ironically called “mummy in the baking” as together with my passion and obsession for all things cake related, I will never be able to have my own "bun in the oven." Years of fertility treatment have taken their toll and I now find myself on a new..eek, i hate this word...journey! The crazy train to adoption. I hope you will join me while I bake my way to becoming a mummy. I want this blog to be a source of information as well as a comforter. I hope it will inspire and help anyone who is considering adoption or who has in fact already bought their ticket for this..here I go again...journey. Cake makes me happy and I hope you will enjoy sharing my love of it. I want it to help lift your spirits and hearts through what can only be described as 'the trials and tribulations of the adoption process.' Along with my desire to be a family, I love my dogs, have an unhealthy love of sausages and chenin blanc, adore my land rover uber-nerd of a husband and continiously dream of balmy summer evenings. Baking in progress…..

Tuesday, 30 December 2014

Dear Santa......

Mince pies, mistletoe and mulled wine. Christmas! One of my all time favourite times of the year. With all our family a million miles away, it usually involves some sort of mega road trip. Seeing as last Christmas was cancelled (due to LBM's major regression, escalating anxiety and prime rejection of LRUN peaking just before Santa was due to squeeze his chubby little bottom down the chimney) this year, we decided we could no longer hide. We had to face reality. And so a road trip was planned, visiting three separate families over the course of six nights. Crazy? I know!  But we felt we just had to do it or we would once again be facing a grim, dismal festive period on our own, searching for the elusive coin in Christmas Pud and dancing around the kitchen to the Pogues. (The same Pogues, which, now in hindsight, are sounding pretty appealing)  We knew it wouldn't be easy but in my heart, I hoped that maybe...just maybe... LBM would be ok. Who was I kidding? Turns out, it was pretty ghastly. But we were determined to persevere and soldier on. If we gave in halfway and came home, we would never go away again. All I can say is thank heavens for Santa. He brought me chocolate and mulled wine.

Despite LBM's inability to sleep in the car, the 2-4 hour car journeys themselves were manageable (hint, there was a lot of singing involved!)  But at each house, LBM began showing very interesting behavior. Big, emotional meltdowns when arriving at each destination. Bursting into tears if anyone spoke to him. Refusing to get out the car, take his shoes, coat, hat etc off. Obviously because this meant we were staying. And on cue, the same behaviour again when leaving. Obviously because this meant we were leaving. He refused to interact with anyone who tried to talk to him, unless it was his idea, of course. Then they were his best friend. Actually, generally, whoever was in the kitchen became his best friend.  And then there was the no sleeping. For a little dude who loves his sleep and is particularly grumpy when he doesn't have enough, this, my friends does not make an ideal situation. But we soldiered on and ..somebody...somebody (!)  pass me a gin...we survived. We arrived back home emotionally and mentally exhausted but knowing in my heart it was all worth it. And as if we didn't eat enough custard over Christmas, whose up for trying out this baby....Magic Custard Cake