I come by this honestly. My mother would be so stressed before entertaining, all six children would simultaneously find activities far from home. Once, in an effort to keep the kids from using the hand towels in the guest bathroom before company came, she left a scathing post-it note on them which read, Don't even THINK of using these towels! Unfortunately, she neglected to take the post-it down before company came. We watched, puzzled, as guest came out of the bathroom looking dazed and wiping their hands on their pants. Whoopsie!
Part of the problem is that I am, I was, a caterer. So I want the food to be amazing. This has led to unrealistic expectations of what I can actually accomplish, given the restraints of gravity, time travel not being invented yet, the need for sleep. Years ago when I had 2 kids under the age of 4, I was prepping for lunch my sister in law and her new boyfriend and was lamenting to my friend that I wasn't going to have time to make my own croissants (!), to which she replied, What would a mortal do? She had a point.
Ah, the quest for perfection, my long time enemy. I'm not sure when I took on this yoke but we were tight for a long time, and everyone around me paid. Somewhere on the way to 50, I let it go. I'm thinking that my years of catering showed me that, despite hours of planning and organizing, someone is going to be wearing a black bra. Let me explain: I was catering a party in rural Virginia. When it came time to change into our catering uniforms, one of my wait staff discovered that she was wearing a black bra - not the look I was going for under our white tuxedo blouses. Since I didn't know the hostess well enough to ask to borrow one of hers, I quickly decided we'd be wearing our catering aprons that day. Hence, the Black Bra theory was born. You can plan, make lists, double check everything, but someone is wearing a black bra and you need to roll with that.
So now, while I do wish the front stoop sat a wee bit closer to the house (you don't actually have to jump the gap to the front door but it's close) or that I had recently replaced like, all the carpet in the house, I don't fuss. My focus now is on making sure my guests have a good time. They are more likely to remember the Peeps centerpiece than the perfectly organized pantry. I like the house to be clean and the food to be good and, if I have time, I like to make favors - just a little something to bring home. But I no longer wish my house were bigger or that I had a new kitchen floor (well, I actually do wish I could replace the floor...). I count my blessings and in being grateful for what I do have, I don't need to focus on what I don't.
And what I do have are amazing friends who love to come and eat my food, a nice small house which could always use some tweaking, and a family that no longer lines up for a dose of anti-anxiety meds when I tell them we are having company. It's not perfect by any means, but it's perfectly wonderful all the same. So please come visit....I love to have you - and I mean that!
Ah, the quest for perfection, my long time enemy. I'm not sure when I took on this yoke but we were tight for a long time, and everyone around me paid. Somewhere on the way to 50, I let it go. I'm thinking that my years of catering showed me that, despite hours of planning and organizing, someone is going to be wearing a black bra. Let me explain: I was catering a party in rural Virginia. When it came time to change into our catering uniforms, one of my wait staff discovered that she was wearing a black bra - not the look I was going for under our white tuxedo blouses. Since I didn't know the hostess well enough to ask to borrow one of hers, I quickly decided we'd be wearing our catering aprons that day. Hence, the Black Bra theory was born. You can plan, make lists, double check everything, but someone is wearing a black bra and you need to roll with that.
So now, while I do wish the front stoop sat a wee bit closer to the house (you don't actually have to jump the gap to the front door but it's close) or that I had recently replaced like, all the carpet in the house, I don't fuss. My focus now is on making sure my guests have a good time. They are more likely to remember the Peeps centerpiece than the perfectly organized pantry. I like the house to be clean and the food to be good and, if I have time, I like to make favors - just a little something to bring home. But I no longer wish my house were bigger or that I had a new kitchen floor (well, I actually do wish I could replace the floor...). I count my blessings and in being grateful for what I do have, I don't need to focus on what I don't.
And what I do have are amazing friends who love to come and eat my food, a nice small house which could always use some tweaking, and a family that no longer lines up for a dose of anti-anxiety meds when I tell them we are having company. It's not perfect by any means, but it's perfectly wonderful all the same. So please come visit....I love to have you - and I mean that!
Maria, I would love to come and visit you! You are on my list of friends we will visit in the near future.
ReplyDeleteAs always you charm m!e with your words making me smile from the inside out
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