Last weekend was my stamping party. I was looking foward to it, because my time off is quite limited, and I haven't had one since July. Before that I was having them every other month, so I was long overdue. Besides, I was looking forward to showing people ways to make Thanksgiving more homey and to help them get a jump start on home-made cards for Christmas. But mainly, it was an entire weekend off. I only get one of those a month, if that. And I was dedicating this one to stamping. I spent all of Saturday getting ready for it -- making class kits, samples, and door prizes.
Sunday came, and I was in good shape. Great shape, actually. Just a little bit of set up and I was done. I wasn't feeling that hot, so I had time to lay down for a while. My guests came one by one. Except one came with her daughter, who was going to make the cards, too. And her husband. And her toddler son. Huh? It's a stamping party, lady. Stamping is for grown ups. Invisible ink with special paper is for toddlers. And I don't have any of that stuff. Not to mention the fact that my house is very clearly not kid friendly. Nor does it have to be, I don't have any. I have a table that dings easily, cream colored carpet, cats, and many, many other things that can hurt a youngster with curious fingers and boundless energy.
The class went for three hours because people took their time crafting, learning new techniques, sipping wine, snacking on spanikopita... oh, yeah... and dodging the grape tomatoes that were being thrown by the toddler. When he wasn't doing that, he was dipping his crackers (that was supposed to have cheese on top) into the cats' water dish. Then he'd scream for a while. Over to push the buttons on the dishwasher. Repeatedly. Then his father had the brilliant idea of giving him his keys to play with. He must have imagined that the keys were drumsticks and that my coffee table was a drum set, because he started banging the two together with great force and laughing the whole time. I just stood there in disbelief... are you actually letting your child attempt to destroy my coffee table... my expensive Pottery Barn coffee table???
I had a headache. Daniel was hiding in the bedroom protecting the cats and the guns. Some people left early. Some people drank more. Finally they all left. What a freaking zoo. Well, at least I had a nice Saturday being creative. Usually in situations like this, I try to come away with something positive. Like, what could I have learned from it all? The only thing I can think of is that I'm not ready for kids yet. But I already knew that. I didn't need a toddler at a stamping party to remind me...