I have come to the great personal epiphany that I have eventaphobia. One would never hire me to be an event planner. Or a conference planner. Oh, I have the vision for it all if I am passionate about it, but don’t ask me to administrate all of the logistical details. I would rather speak at the events or simply dance (if I could dance). I did not even remember to buy all the flowers for my wedding day until an hour before at the grocers. Larsen has lost 4 teeth and the tooth fairy is still on vacation–he thinks they must be in Australia. Easter eggs got painted one year, I think. Brown lunch bags took the place of baskets. Small details are such great effort (the paperwork on my desk is mounding, Ben maintains everything…), it is the big ones, theat global thinking, that come natural to me, that global thinking. Strange.
To plan and prepare for holidays, birthdays, events is a great effort. What is my problem? Can you relate? Maybe everyone has always known my older sister was good at this sort of thing, that it was her trademark, not mine to take. I have such admiration for people like my friend Jen who have things so pleasing and sweet days before, for Trudie and Tracy who have sent me handmade cards through the years (and they arrive exactly on my birthday!) and my mother-in-law who gets a thrill out of buying Christmas dishes and filling stockings (we actually now have some after 9 Christmases!). I have wondrous ideas in my head of what I would do if I had unlimited resources, okay actually any resources, but rarely do they come to pass (save my boys’ birthdays and end-of-the year graduation for them). The intentions of my heart are quite thoughtful but the follow-through is nil.
Hospitality is exhausting to me, at least the preperation. I love the company and good invigorating conversation. I like to imagine it is easier if you have a house of your own, a full dining room and space for people and lots of food and such, but Benjamin tells me it is simply sharing what you have with ease. I remember many meals in cement shack-houses in Mexico that exuded more warmth than an American house on Thanksgiving. Forget being Martha Stewart (the woman really set ridiculous expectations–who really cares how to cut a cake or a mango for that matter?).
I have pondered if I should work on this weakness. But it may shock people if I did and then I may lose the gusto again. Actually I was pretty good at this stuff before marriage and kids. I spent hours planning things for people as a kid. Maybe I am just plain tired. Maybe now there is so many other urgent things, like feeding my kids to attend to. Maybe I have a personal vendetta against Hallmark (Sweetest Day, really?).
It’s morning and Father’s Day. I need to sign off and sneak the boys out to buy a card and figure out what to do today. Like call my father since I forgot to send him a card. And I just realized our ten year anniversary is this Friday. We said on our wedding day we would spend that day in Europe, maybe we should plan that for 10 years from now…