I am not pregnant.
I never thought I'd ever actually have to type those words on this blog - or anywhere else, for that matter.
But after my last post about crafting, I had MORE THAN ONE person reach out to me to ask me if I was pregnant. Admittedly, I was a little offended that these folks didn't read the entire blog to see that I'm not at all pregnant. Worried that if I was indeed pregnant that these same people thought I'd announce it covertly within a blog about crafting. But mostly I was concerned that I'd done something to make people think that I was, in fact, with child.
That is not the case. So let me reiterate - several of my
friends,
co-workers, and my
sister-in-law are pregnant.
Not me. Not pregnant. Just crafting. And baby showering.
I also didn't mean to underscore my abilities in hopes that you would compliment me and make me feel good about myself, but I do appreciate those remarks nonetheless.
Lauren's shower was great, the food was great, the crafts (even those done by me) were great . . . it's just that the road getting there, at least for me, was paved with mishaps and insanity.
My latest (mis)adventure in crafting was no different - this time for a couples shower in honor of my brother and Katie and yet-to-be-named Baby Girl Gallman.
This shower-throwing experience was a lesson in how different scenarios bring out different elements of my personality. For Lauren's shower, besides coming up with the pickles and ice cream favor idea, which amounted to a
hot mess of melted ice cream, I more or less let the other hosts
take the lead.
Not for this shower. I don't know what came over me, maybe it's I'm-having-my-first-niece nuttiness, but the second I was invited to help
host, I sort of went all "Type-A Crazy Aunt Steph." Full of ideas, demands, orders. Someone would ask what their job should be, and "Passive-Aggressive Whatever Steph" was nowhere to be found.
It was more, "I'm Doing This, You Do That Steph."
Katie's poor sister
Sarah Jane logged onto her email after weeks of online conversation between the hosts to no less
than 40 emails of me barking orders and telling the other hosts exactly
what I thought we should do. I didn't ask for permission or open it up for discussion, I just told everyone what I was going to do and hoped it was alright.
Maybe I'm a better party host than I thought? Or maybe I'm just a biatch?
Regardless, look at this barbecue spread.
Look at these party decorations.
Look. At. These. Flags.
I know that marsh view is waaaaaay better than the flags, but I made them all, under close supervision by my mother, who more than once ripped my stitches wide open and disgustingly said to me, "What is this? Do it again!" Her bossiness paid off, though, because the flags were a hit.
Midway through sewing them, which again were quite laborious for an amateur such as myself, my mom turned to me and sarcastically said, "Aren't you glad you're spending all this time on these? Your brother is going to love them!"
We both shared a laugh over that - because these party decorations, of which I'd become borderline obsessed, aren't really a guy thing and definitely not a Jeff thing. (For the record, he complimented them at the party, only after Katie pointed at them and said, "Look at the banner Stephanie made!")
Despite the valiant efforts of all of us to put on a great party, which we did, if I do say so myself, the highlight of the evening couldn't have been crafted or planned at all. No, the best moment by far came courtesy of Katie's father, who graciously agreed to say the blessing before dinner after we put him on the spot. In the midst of his prayer, he said, "And God, please bless this little Baby Child."
I chuckled to myself, thinking of that scene from
Talladega Nights when they all pray to "Sweet Baby Jesus."
When the prayer ended we all looked up to find Katie hysterically laughing. Like tears streaming down, red faced, laughter over "Baby Child." These laughing fits, she said, have been one of the side effects of her pregnancy. Though it's caused her some embarrassment, that's a side effect I could get on board with.
I asked my dad earlier today if he had fun at the shower and he said, "Oh Yeah! It's always fun seeing all those outlaws (aka my brother's friends) all grown up with kids of their own."
Yep, when I look at these pictures - Katie's sweet family and the little kids excluded - this party was nothing more than a bunch of crazy hosts and outlaws.
God help Baby Child Gallman and the many people who already love her.