Pizza

Last night we had homemade pizza at my house with the Laurels. There are 5 Laurels and one other adult were expected. Since I was making the dough and providing the main ingredients, I worked a fair amount getting everything ready. I made enough for all the Laurels and 3 adults. (John eats too.) For mutual, the young men and young women all meet together for opening exercises, the point of which, I assume, is to make sure that the young men remember that there are girls in the ward. When I got there 5 minutes late, no Laurels. Slowly they came, one by one, but until I saw at least 3 of them I was really stressed. You can't really have a fun pizza party with 2 teenagers, their advisor and her husband. Eventually, all 5 Laurels and the other adult showed up.
We had a GREAT time. Enough pizza, enough cheese, enough of everything, etc. And, everyone had a good time. Our useful and education part of the evening was going to be making some dough, so everyone could learn, but there wasn't enough time.

So, here is my point. I really did get stressed for the 5-7 minutes that it took for all the Laurels to show up. Why do I do this? Its like waiting at your house, streamers waving in the wind, (air conditioner?) Pretty cake ready for candles. Donkeys waiting to get pinned in the butt and the pinata is trying to catch an air current from the air conditioner. Everything is in limbo once the clock turns "party time". WHAT IF NO ONE COMES?

When I was 5, though I don't remember except through pictures, a whole lot of kids in bathing suits were running through the sprinklers in the back yard.
My 12th (13th) birthday, 15 -20 girls and GUYS(!) came. Some of them even brought presents! It was fun, which is quite the accomplishment for middle schoolers.
My first Christmas in Romania (mission), I couldn't quite bring myself to expect gifts because I'd only been in the country for a month, I'd already lived away from home for 3 years before my mission, and packages take a long time to get to Romania. Christmas day at 2 pm (?) in Romania 6 am (?) in New York, I answer the phone and my whole family is joyfully singing "We wish you a Merry Christmas" sounding happy to wake up way too early. My 2 enormous packages came in time, filled with warm clothes, some treats, and lots of gloves and hats to give to cold Romanians. My companion had given me a present, worried that I wouldn't get anything!

Lastly, Libby B. threw me a baby shower. I was excited, but I knew someone's kid had a birthday party the same day, so some moms might not be able to come. I arrived a few minutes before 12 noon, the appointed time. No one yet, but that was expected. 12 comes, no one. A few more minutes. Margaret comes with some food. More minutes, no one else. I'm wondering how it would feel to go home and answer John's "how was it?" with, "no one came" and bursting into tears. Libby asked me to go upstairs and get baby Sara dressed. While I was up there, 10 (?) people showed up. At the height of the shower I counted 24(?) well wishers who wanted to celebrate with me.

So, why do i do this? Even if I were to have a bust of a party, it would not be the norm. Why do I forget that I have good friends? Here's my theory. If all my friends are expected to show up at once, if fewer than are expected show up, you feel rejected and embarrassed. Its as though that a party is the real test of one's popularity. And that would be a real bummer of a time to find out the sad truth.

Anyway, I was so relieved that we had a good time and that the girls came!

So, thanks to all my good friends, who remember that they love me, if even occasionally I don't!

Blechh.

All three of us have had the stomach flu this week and though we're on the mend, my house is not. Well, if I start to mend it, it will be. But, I'm still tired. It is a lot of work being sick and not doing any work. Except, I will categorize changing stomach-flu-baby's diaper WORK. But, John helped with every single one he was home for! Amazing man. Even when he is sick.
So, I read Anne of Windy Poplars yesterday, (my sickest day) and though I generally enjoy the Anne books, yesterday she was SOOOO annoying! Why is everything so flowery? Why is everything rosy or misty or hallowed or cozy or a kindred spirit house? Why is there always a sweet or moody or lovable or midnight black cat with a mysterious scowl? Why is she able to fix every single problem ever? Why is it ok that she doesn't see Gilbert for three years before they get married. (With a few exceptions.) And, why doesn't she ever get the stomach flu and spend days in the cherubic and truly delicious bathroom?

Sunshine!

I'm pleased and surprised to be able to announced that we've had several beautifully sunny days this past week. Cold, but sunny. (And yes, I realize that cold is a very relative word.) We've gone for lots of walks and opened all our shades to allow the sun to envelope us in joy and hope. We bought this house in large part because of its windows. Lots and lots of windows.
If you haven't seen them, you should come and visit!

Laurels

I was recently called as the Laurel adviser in our new ward. I was dumbfounded, as I've been a teacher for so long. I soon got really excited, and then intimidated. As I'm getting to know the girls, I have 5, I'm more and more impressed with them. Our activity tonight was a mini book club. We each brought our favorite books, up to 3, and talked about them, one at a time. I had brought some basic questions to guide us. I was worried that it seem boring to them, but we had a great time. Everyone was really enthusiastic about presenting their books and we had great discussions. We had a lot of fun, and I'm so glad!

I'm so glad when Daddy gets home!

Annika, seeing me ALL day, although I know she loves me, absolutely lights up in joy and excitement when John walks through the door. He can't help but pick her up right then, without putting down his stuff, because she is at his feet, crawling up his legs. She looks exactly how I feel!
Still waking up 1-2 times a night, our darling girl is quickly helping the bags under my eyes swallow my whole face. An exaggeration? Yes. Completely? No.