|Me this week? Hells no...|
It wasn't pretty. Well, for me anyway. I'm pretty sure everyone had fun, because they keep coming back.
The invite list is a little smaller, but with a few last minute adds, we'll be up to 40 this year. I think I can handle that. Weather promises to be mid-80s and sunny. Otherwise, I guess our friends will end up hanging out with the clutter in the garage. Whatevs.
I make the same things every year and let guests bring a dish (learned after year two). That way I only have to worry about feeding the overnight guests a few extra meals. I have my simple menu list written out and the grocery list made.
We've been a little stressed in our casa lately, so I'm desperately trying a new approach to party planning - don't worry. It's not going well. Hubby is still trying to nail down treatment of his ulcer (ugh, don't ask. I hate doctors right now), so even when he isn't doubled over in pain, he's exhausted. That means the prep falls to little ole me.
Right. No stress there.
So I swear, I am only cleaning my bathrooms and any surfaces that will come in contact with food. I will run the sweeper for the benefit of my overnight guest with cat allergy and attempt to chisel some of the kid-related mess off my dining room table.
I will not dust.
I will not deep clean anything.
I will not suddenly decide that picture that I've always wanted to go in *that* spot on the wall needs to be there NOW or any other house decorating projects that I've ignored for the last 11 months.
I will not painstakingly sweep, mop and scrub my dining room and kitchen floors for my children to promptly spill something or for 40 people to be traipsing over with grass and whatnot on their shoes.
I will not try a brand new recipe or add to my minimalist contribution to the food feast.
I will find a box and gather up all the random clutter "stuff" and hide it in my closet until they all leave. So if you want to know what my house looks like every day, feel free to nose in my closet. That is where random miscellaneous crap goes to die.
At your own risk, of course. Who knows what might fall off a shelf onto your head. Probably whatever I hid there last year.