The Tea Party

Last week was a rather 'navy' week for me. Maybe it was just *that time of the month* (Did any of the rest of you hate when your mom asked if that was the cause of your bad day?) Maybe it was that our week of winter break didn't really turn out to be that full of fun. Maybe it was mom guilt for feeling crazy after a week of five children in a small house. Maybe it was pain and heartache that weighed heavily in the back of my mind. Maybe it was just something wrong with my eyes, and the week was really all gold and white...

Whatever the case, when Friday rolled around and my husband was going to be gone for the evening taking the Quiz Team he had coached out for supper, and I realized I was going to be the sole adult making the evening a good one (again) and that my hopes for doing something fun on Saturday were crashed because of a brother-in-law who needs his house finished before his wedding in 4 weeks, I was cross. Cross and, I realized, jealous of every person who had gotten my husband's time all week! My children had even gotten to have turns helping work on the brother-in-law's house with dad. I was jealous of them too!

But, I'm a good girl. So I planned to have a 'tea party' with my girls since Isaac would be included in the going out to eat (Not fair, but there it was. I mean, it wouldn't have been out of place to take your wife along for the event, just saying). I even texted a friend about having her girls over for the evening, but they were out of state (doing what families should do during winter break...but anyway). I wrote up an invitation for my little ladies and planned a few things in my mind as I went about the day.

Evening came and I really wasn't in the mood y'all, just really wasn't. The man hadn't even brought the apple cider I'd requested from town and I just didn't have the energy! But, I figured something out for food and sent them into their room to get dressed up while I grabbed a piece of fabric from the cupboard for a table cloth and salvaged the best of the dying bouquet of flowers and pulled out doilies. And then the phone rang....so, I tucked it on my shoulder and kept going. And then Charles woke up from his late nap on the couch and was a total grouch and the person on the phone didn't take hints and the timer went off for the oven and I finally barged into the dressing room and deposited him there while I pulled my slightly crisp pizzas from the oven and threw away all element of surprise and asked the girls what plates and cups to use and slapped the rest of the things together and said go ahead and eat while I go put some clothes on!

The whole thing felt like the poor girl who can't play volleyball to save her life and all her team mates are politely saying "Good try!" when, in reality, it wasn't anything but a terrible fail. To my shock, my girls ooooohhhed and aaaahhhed and "thanked me so much for doing this" and "they're so glad it was just us" and "thank you mom"! Only two of us actually drank hot tea, the other cups contained cold tea, water and tang. Nothing was perfect, and the mom wasn't even feeling very sweet, but they loved it and it was a good time.

The moral of the story? I have my theories, but maybe you should tell me!