Funny how I can both look forward to and dread having people over.
It's hard for me, with my OCD, to have anyone arrive unannounced - what if the toilet bowl isn't shining? What if the bench isn't clear? What if all the crap that Jacob has moved out of his room into the living room/toilet/kitchen is still strewn all over the floor? What will they think if I haven't baked cupcakes/biscuits/muffins???
In the same breath, (a big breath - the kind that free divers use) I always dread anything I have organised more than an hour in advance.
I have particular anxiety surrounding anything that I have written in my diary. It sits there, on the page, taunting me with its 'what if all the other people there are mean and thin?' 'What if you get a better offer?' 'you've got nothing to wear/nothing interesting to say/nothing to contribute to anyone's social gathering'.
I am an enigma, a dichotomy! I am basically a 'fly by the seat of your pants' kind of gal, trapped in the body of a neurotic, uber-organised, neat freak. How, with all that modern medicine has to offer the world of anti psychotic meds, can this be possible?
That said, I had visitors this afternoon and it was nice!
Toilet clean, bench clear, Jacob's crap duly sorted, cupcakes baked and a good time had by all.
Monkey senior generally responds well to visitors of any description. She is her mother's daughter and likes to put on a show. Monkey junior is happy wherever there is food. Therefore visitors = home baking = 1 happy small monkey.
I realised pretty early in my foray into stay-at-home-mummery, that a whole day spent indoors with the monkeys was conducive to infanticide or at the very least excessive daytime drinking and, on our budget, liquor before noon is not an option.
So visitors to the rescue, if only because I find that other people's children, more often than not, make my children look nicer/cuter/funnier/smarter.
That reads as mean, doesn't it? But it's not - really! It's just my way of reminding myself that I am a lucky SAHM and life is great. And if I'm perfectly honest, my children are nicer/cuter/funnier/smarter.So I spent the afternoon talking about non-parent related stuff, monkey senior played at fairies/princesses/doctors/weddings/schools and monkey junior ate. Oh how the winter afternoons sped by - really!