Gifted

This weekend, the non-baby shower, 3 months in the making, was had. Throughout the past few months, decision had been made, wheels had been set into motion, registries had been agonized over and selected, and now there no turning back from the inevitable.

There were certainly some minor hiccups in the plan - for one thing, back in April when we decided that we wanted to hold the festivities at our house, we had not accounted for the fact that by the time our 40+ guests arrived in June, our "kitchen" would be a gaping hole with bare plank floor and exposed electrical sockets, accented with more holes and plastic sheeting reminiscent of hazardous waste areas or that weird room the kept E.T. in for all those experiments.

We also couldn't have predicted that the weather would be a balmy 111 degrees, making the back-up plan of having the party outside about as viable as ice skating in the 9th circle of Hell. But we were not to be deterred.

Jessica, arriving from NYC in a flurry of activity, decided she was single-handedly going to overcompensate not only for her absent co-hostess Kate (who is off chasing tornadoes right now - no joke) but for everyone else who had ever planned a party anywhere.

I was happily along for the ride as food was ordered, a color scheme selected (and immediately abandoned when we discovered that Party City does not party in shades of brown or jungle motif), poems were attached with ribbons around mini (the only shout-out to babies) palms, balloons were purchased and strategically placed in front of the aforementioned haz-mat sheeting in an effort to disguise or at least distract from it. A trick that for reasons that defy logic seemed to work.

When Saturday, the food, the cake, and, most importantly, the booze arrived it almost looked like we had meant to have a party. The margaritas were mixed, the guests were in place, my dog heroically withstood the heat and prodding of 4 toddlers (one of whom also amused himself by trying to eat our glass coasters and sticking his fingers in electrical sockets), and by all accounts it seems that a good time was had by all.

I thrilled to the lack of shower games! I relished the fact that I didn't have to open gifts in front of a throng of people! I basked in the absence of pink ribbons! But even more importantly, I glowed in the presence of so many friends and family who had traveled from near and far to be with us and celebrate She-Blob.

***

Sunday afternoon, nearly 24 hours after the guests had departed, Bree and I stood in our backyard, hose in hand, surveying the damage. We were sweaty and tired. Literally barefoot and pregnant, I sported a white wife-beater. As we did dishes on our lawn, occasionally spraying each other down with the hose to cool off, we had to laugh. In spite of better judgement, we'd pulled it off. And got some cool-ass swag to boot!