It doesn't take much for me to make myself crazy. This week is a prime example.
We are getting ready for our big house party/cookout/how many random groups of people can we force to interact in out backyard explosion known as Fryman Fun Fest.
It started out innocently enough. We were the first of our friends to get married and settle down with a real, honest-to-goodness house. So how did we celebrate? Invite all our single or dating apartment-dwelling friends to sit in our backyard to drink, eat, drink, play volleyball, eat, drink and kick each other's butts in Trivial Pursuit.
Then we started making friends here, so the invite list grew. And grew. And grew. Until last year 60 people descended on the house. In case that wasn't enough to send me into fits, it was cold and rainy. Not the hottest weekend of the year like normal. So all of those people had to fit INTO our house. Luckily our garage is huge. But I still was ready to hide in my room all afternoon, rocking back and forth until the house was quiet again.
So this year the invite list was smaller - about 40 people. There will be five overnighters. They have been friends for years and know my hatred of cleaning. But I still have the need to try to make my house spotless. I have two kids, two animals and a husband. That is impossible. It's like brushing your teeth in the middle of an Oreo. But I make myself crazy trying to do it anyway.
The food will be another headache. We don't try to provide everything, just burgers and brats (learned that year two), and a few staples that I would have a riot on my hands if I didn't make. But the morning of, I'll start pacing the kitchen, fretting that everyone will go hungry and hate us and never speak to us again.
I never said I'm logical when I'm crazy.
My dear friend Jen put it in perspective. She reminded me that nobody will care what the house looks like, or what food we have, so long as there is beer. And the poor dear doesn't even like beer that much.
So there will probably be fur on my furniture, crumbs on my floor and if we're lucky, enough food and drink to keep everyone content for a weekend. If not, there's always Walmart. The city folk love the hitching post anyway.