The hostess with the mostest ridiculous worries.

When we were house hunting I told the realtor I was looking for something with a really open floor plan on the ground floor so that we could entertain. When we walked into our current home we knew immediately it was the right place – you could see from the front door all the way through to the back door. And over the years we’ve thrown two big house parties a year as well as three bridal showers and a wedding rehearsal dinner. But Noah’s birthday party ushered in a new kind of shindig – welcoming family, babies a plenty and our drunkard friends all to one bash. Though it was my original idea to have one party for everyone, as the day got closer I started worrying. That IS what I do best. Would it be too crowded? Would everyone enjoy themselves? Would the older folks be appalled by the behavior of the younger folks? Would the childless be put off by the sheer number of infants in attendance (7!)? Would the in-laws mesh? Would my divorced folks get on okay? Would everyone leave at 9 pm? It was an incredible number of variables. And the morning of the party I was filled with a bit of dread after it took three tries to make coffee and Mark accidentally set off both the car and house alarm. Clearly it was going to be a challenging day.

But GOD I am such a ridiculous worry wart! The first hour Mark and I were a bit harried because we were running behind schedule. The sandwich trays weren’t ready on time so Mark was stuck at the shop waiting for them and I spent a ridiculous amount of time meticulously hanging streamers rather than readying the rest of the food. I lost my chance to freshen up before the party with a shower or even a moment to run a brush through my damn hair – but I have only bad time management to blame for that. But once everyone settled in and started eating, chatting and drinking all was well. I always get a warm feeling in my heart when I see an odd couple talking at one of our parties - my Oma speaking German to Mark’s cousin’s husband Bill, band man Frazier flirting with Mark’s Grandma Laima, my cousin Tammy’s three year old Aelan asking to sit on our friend Audrey’s lap, Jen Oliver playing peek-a-boo in Noah’s new tent. These are the memorable moments at parties. And Noah – he seemed to enjoy himself too. I guess he didn’t get the memo about the birthday boy crying because he observantly checked it all out for a few hours and shortly after began toddling around the floor as if nothing was amiss. Every once in awhile I’d just think “who has my baby?” and I’d spot in the arms of one of the grandparents or a friend. In my opinion it turned out to be a really lovely evening. And it really touches me that to know that Noah has such a large group of people who came out to celebrate him – well, and drink beer. Though the invite said we’d be serving beer til the last guest left, we ran out. Mark advised me we’d never drink a keg and if we bought four cases we’d have plenty to spare. Did he forget who he was dealing with? This crowd drank a lot and didn’t eat enough. People – how dare you leave me here with so much freaking dip? Next time – EAT. Luckily after the beer was gone we had wine and Patty’s cherry vodka to pacify the crowds until the house shut down at 1:30 am. Boy were we beat yesterday. And today for that matter. The house is still in a semi-shambles. If you come over and clean it I will reward you with dip.

Thanks folks. We love you.