For those of you newer readers, I don't take people coming into my house very easily. So when I found out that my in-laws were coming for the party that I was already freaking out about hosting, somebody hit the crazy button in my brain. That's not to be confused with the Easy Button, that's Staples. No, I bring out the hardcore nutball that doesn't think anything is good enough, or for the love of Blog, clean enough.
And it's not just the day or two preceding guests entering my home--it's a month long obsess-a-thon. No denial here, it's stupid and it's me being incredibly insecure. However, I've had enough therapy for this lifetime so let me just blog it out.
So now I'm waging war inside my brain trying to keep the Molly Maid on steroids part of me at bay long enough to not be an ungracious hostess. Really, I just wanted to curl up and die on the couch for a while because I was still not 100% from the flu. And I did take an unbelievably long break while waiting for laundry to finish because I wasn't expecting Dom's dad and brother to show up until after dinner.
They must have left at the ass crack of dawn because I got a phone call at 1:00 saying they would be there in an hour. I still hadn't showered, vacuumed the furniture, or put away the laundry. The look on my face was probably something like this:
I was also planning on making meatloaf for dinner and hadn't done any prep for that either. I didn't want to look like a recipe novice, you know. We ended up eating out anyway because everyone wanted seafood. I've still got pounds of hamburger in my freezer if anyone's interested in a giant pan of cow.
Anyway, it just really threw me for a loop because I was expecting the weekend to be my prep time for the party. I mean I wanted to go all out making cupcakes, decorating, and feeding everyone--because if I don't, you know that's a sign of my inability to exist as a woman and a mother, right? I know it's not, but that's the way 'Roid Rage Suzy Homemaker sees it.
I had finally convinced myself that I didn't need to buy the cupcake kit and try to fashion a puppy dog out of various icings to tie the whole theme together. At least I had the sugar cookies to decorate, right? Not so much. The icing had gotten refrigerated so it was really hard to manage, even after sitting out. And I realized as I was opening the package, that I hadn't bought a decorative tip either. Dom fashioned a sandwich bag squeezy tube for me, but I was still praying that the dog bones didn't turn out looking like penises.
But you'll get the whole account of the party in the next blog. This one was just about me bringing the crazy.
Anyway, it just really threw me for a loop because I was expecting the weekend to be my prep time for the party. I mean I wanted to go all out making cupcakes, decorating, and feeding everyone--because if I don't, you know that's a sign of my inability to exist as a woman and a mother, right? I know it's not, but that's the way 'Roid Rage Suzy Homemaker sees it.
I had finally convinced myself that I didn't need to buy the cupcake kit and try to fashion a puppy dog out of various icings to tie the whole theme together. At least I had the sugar cookies to decorate, right? Not so much. The icing had gotten refrigerated so it was really hard to manage, even after sitting out. And I realized as I was opening the package, that I hadn't bought a decorative tip either. Dom fashioned a sandwich bag squeezy tube for me, but I was still praying that the dog bones didn't turn out looking like penises.
But you'll get the whole account of the party in the next blog. This one was just about me bringing the crazy.
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wow....that photo....it ...uh....creeps me out, like big time.
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