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!
3 comments:
Every time I organize a party for one of my kids, I tell them repeatedly that they should invite more people than they really want to have at the party. I tell them that based on my past experience with parties and various events, only about half the invited people will probably be able to come. (This is true). I try to make this sound very blah and matter-of-fact, that everyone's busy, families have a lot going on, etc. This is all a preemptive measure to keep them from feeling bad when and if not a whole lot of people show up. I don't know if in fact my low rate of response is really a reflection on my lack of coolness; I prefer to treat it as the norm.
I worry about this topic from both sides: What if no one comes to my event? To my child's party? But also, what if we turn down this invitation to a friend's party, and they don't get a big turn-out? Then I feel guilty. And to complicate matters, we get lots of invitations every year for birthday parties on Sundays. We always turn those down; it's a known family policy that Sunday is the Sabbath, and that means no birthday parties. My kids accept that as a given at this point. But then I feel worried; does the other family think we don't like them? Do they think we think we're better than they are for having such a policy? Do they think we're just weird religious freaks? Do they feel less inclined to make social overtures towards our family in the future?
Usually, I try to remedy this by immediately inviting that kid over for a playdate, having my kid give them a present at that point, and generally trying to be friendly. Hopefully, they'll know that we're not just trying to blow them off, that we really do want to be friends. But it does make me feel awkward. For this one reason, I sometimes think it would be nice to raise my kids in Utah. (But for many other reasons, I'd rather stay here).
Anyway, I'm glad your pizza event was fun!
Sad to say, I am one of those people that should have just forgone the bridal showers. My family one turned out well, but the other two were on the dud side. That is how things go I suppose. I saddly had to find that out too late. On my third party, everyone I grew up knowing, it was the day before mother's day, but out of 40 people invited, there were a total of 5 invited guests + one husband of the invited. Two others had dropped off a gift earlier. I felt terrible for my friend who threw me the party. My next door neighbor wanted to go and tell everyone off, when his mother told him how many people showed up. He knew how supportive my mother had been for everyone else's family. I guess that is what bugged me also; my mother had been very supportive of everyone else's girls, especially the family on the corner that had five girls in their family, plus eleven boys. Okay, I'm stopping now. Sorry to rant.
I'm glad that your party turned out well.
I absolutely HATE that few minutes before a party's supposed to start! Michelle's rule of thumb is the same one I use, and it's usually right on the nose, but as I recall we invited about 35 people to your shower...so the fact that 24 of them came says something about YOU, Cynthia.
I remember when my roommate and I threw a housewarming party in our new-and-supremely-cool L.A. apartment. We worked our (cute and skinny) butts off to have good food and good music and to have the place clean, and then I totally stressed out: would anyone show up? Eventually we had, like, 70 people crammed into the apartment, and we even attracted some weird reveler from the party across the street who thought our part looked way cooler (until he figured out we didn't have anything he wanted to drink). Great party, really. But it was a Sally Field moment for me: "You like me! You really, really like me!"
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