To comply with my Y2K resolution of : Entertain More. I am hosting a combination of Easter Dinner and two - two- two birthday parties into one Wham Bam What’s Shirley’ Burning Ca-lam-ity.
I’m pretty sure it was an out of body experience when I actually asked some family members if they wanted to come over for Easter. You’d think that two weeks away from Rabbit Day and they’d have made plans. Crap, next time I’ll ask two days out
So now I’m having 15 people over. You folks out there have no idea of the tremors this shindig causes me and it’s really not over the food. Its the :the house has to look good/the children have to look good/I have to look good/the food has to be good and ( this is the big one) we can’t leave when we want. Usually, by the time everyone shows up I’m so pooped that I can’t wait for them to leave.
My husband should have married a nice german girl.
I have farmed out the side dishes in the Bring A Dish To Pass catagory, so I’m not worried about the food as much. Hubby has helped a great deal so far with the cleaning.
I know everything will be fine, but it’s only the second time in seven years ( you read that right) that I’ve hosted a formal get together like this. I’m more of the chili/grilling and outdoorsy entertaining person. The more I think about it, the more it bothers me. Martha Stewart I am not.
I think most of my concentration has been in presents for my son, who will be two on Tuesday and gifts for the two other children ( one nephew who is a spaztic five year old and one 11 month old neice.) and something to keep them occupied. I think I’ve blown more money on the little gifts ( books, a few toys and stuffed animals that are not connected to easter at all.) than the meal itself.
The way I look at is is that if I burn/undercook the ginger-orange glaze pork end rib roast that I’m trying for the first time on Sunday, if I make my el spazo nephew happy and keep him under control ( Like my brother and his wife can’t) then all is good.
I can’t wait until my son opens his presents. If he doesn’t go nuts over the McDuff stuffed dog I bought for him, I’ll…well…pout. I searched for weeks to find the little dog and found it at Amazon.com.
( McDuff, for those of you who aren’t in the know, is the main character, a westie, in a children’s book that has really beautiful drawings.1930’s feel to them. He just loves Duff.)
Naturally, I fully expect him to play with the boxes. I may be a moron, but I’m not naive.