Yeah, I don't know what I was thinking either. But I have been planning, anticipating and dreaming of it for the past four months. And in a quick hot minute, it was all over, Todd and I were left dazed and alone wondering what the hell happened.
On account of it all, I got quite sick, we're all still exhausted, and in retaliation, I tore off all of our Christmas decorations and had Todd trash the tree this morning, only 24 hours after I staggered, sick and dehydrated, out of bed on Christmas morning to lay on the sofa and wonder what the hell happened.
The party was lovely. We saw tons of our friends, family and loved ones. I put out a great spread, on time like I had planned, every couple of hours. I cooked a good dinner of lamb, potatoes and green beans, an hour after schedule because I apparently forgot that I also have a child who needs to be bathed, read to and put to bed, but still, we all had a good time, Christmas was utterly celebrated.
But I did too much. I made Todd do too much. Alexandra fell ill the day before, I stupidly forged ahead and therefore she did too much as well. She's a great kiddo, and rallies when she's ill. But I didn't anticipate her hanging off me while I tried to put food out, shrieking "mama! mama! mama!" as I tried to flip bacon, pull out phyllo pockets, check the temperature of the lamb (using two temperature gauges, one of which would tell me 70 degrees, the other telling me 385).
Here's how I hope it went:
Here's how it felt:
Anyways, I would like to have posted about my fabulous phyllo treats (another time) or simply how marvelous everything was, but I thought I would take the humble road and be honest. When you host a holiday event it's hard, sweaty and goes by far faster than the host/ess would like. But to try two events is just fool hardy, and now I know better.
Next year it's fast food burritos and a box of wine.
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