The night before Curly-locks’ third birthday party, I sat on the floor of my shower, put my head in my hands and cried as the water rained over me.
Fat tears rolled down my hot face. I was howling. There was dribble, maybe even a little snot. I’m sure I looked most attractive.
I had spent a long and full day preparing for Curly-locks’ party. I had battled with shortcut pastry and fondant and amputated the legs off a Snow White doll – tragic and a little gruesome. I had also vacuumed our two story house, mopped the floors, and cleaned three bathrooms. Come evening time, I was in a state of utter exhaustion, and yet, I was mad at myself for not being able to do more.
I had originally planned to make a fine selection of gourmet sandwiches for the party, mini leek quiches, a Snow White cake, and Evil Queen poison apple cupcakes.
Mum convinced me that there was no need to go to all this trouble. There were only 15 people coming to the party and all of them immediate family. Two weeks earlier, I had gone to a lot of trouble for Smiley’s baptism and there was no need to go all out again.
After much internal battle, I decided mum was right. I compromised with myself and decided to ditch the sambos and buy a couple of large quiches, but I’d still make the cake, cupcakes, and mini quiches.
Come the end of the day though, I regretted my decision. I felt like I had failed. All of these people would be coming over with amazing presents and all I’m giving them in return is quiche from The Cheesecake Shop!
I dragged myself out of the shower, drank two huge glasses of wine, ate a whole pizza, and put myself to bed.
The next morning I woke up in a much better mood. Everything was done for the party. All I had to do was get myself and the kids dressed and wait for the guests to arrive. There was no need to run around putting sandwiches together at the last minute. I just needed to flick the oven on to 160 degrees and pop those babies in for 20 minutes. Easy as.
And you know what? Curly-locks’ party was the only function we have ever had at our house where I really enjoyed myself. I wasn’t running around like an idiot. I felt chilled (more wine helped with this) and had fun.
A week ago, I wrote about making time to enjoy the simple things in life. This was all very well and good in theory, but I have been quick to realise it is not that easy for me to all of a sudden put the brakes on when I have been running around at Energizer bunny levels for as long as I can remember.
It is really going to be a case of practice makes perfect for me. I can’t expect to instantly transform into this super cool, chilled out person that doesn’t care if the house is a mess and the kids are late to bed.
I must admit I have found it quite difficult to loosen my grip on control, accept help from others, and not be so bloody hard on myself.
I have to constantly remind myself that I don’t need to be perfect all the time. I do not have to be the hostess with the mostest.
Sure, if I didn’t have a demanding three-year-old and a nine month old baby, I may be able to do a little more, but at the moment I need to, as I said last week, be wary of my limits and simplify.
The main thing is that I want to change and will. It is just going to take me a little time.
Are you hard on yourself too? Do you try to be the hostess with the mostest at your parties?