It's birthday time again in our home, and I am once again stressing about THE CAKE. I have friends who throw elaborate, bounce-house parties with the requisite theme cake from the local bakery. They have goodie bags, five-course meals and a pinata.

The parties in our home are scaled down-affairs. I try ("try" is the operative word here) to keep things simple: maybe a few friends, maybe an activity or two, with everyone getting a candy bar at the end. Such simplicity means that all energy and focus revolve around the birthday cake.

It all began with Jackson's second birthday, which featured a cake that looked exactly like a beach ball sliced in half. The stage had been set, and there was no going back.

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