The Holiday Party

I always look forward to my husband’s holiday party with a combination of excitement and dread. It’s an odd mixture of emotions. I get excited to go shopping and pick out something I normally wouldn’t wear, but dread the potential price tag for something I’ll usually only wear once. I eagerly anticipate a meal with adult company and not having to cut little boys' food, or say “sit down and eat” even one time. Simultaneously, I fear that I’ll make myself look ridiculous in some way. Spill food, talk about mundane kid stuff too much, talk about funny kid stuff way too much.The opportunities to embarrass myself or be socially awkward are endless.

This year I thought I had done well. I acquired a dress right after Thanksgiving. It was on sale, which was a total bonus. Fortunately, the week before the party I thought I should try on the dress one more time. Unfortunately, I discovered upon doing so that I absolutely hated it and it must be returned ASAP. What was I thinking to have bought something so NOT my style? Maybe I was still in my too much Thanksgiving food stupor when I made the purchase, but it was clear that there was no way I was going to be wearing that dress.

In my usual procrastinating style, the day before the party I frantically searched for something to wear. I went over my criteria in my head. Not black, because I tend to be drawn to black, but wanted something more cheery and festive for this occasion. Something dressy, but not formal necessarily, I don't want to stand out. The dress for this event typically ranges from business attire to not quite black tie, with all sorts of in between. I needed something perfect that would make me feel good and maybe even forget about the 40 or so pounds I still need to lose. It should also be on sale! It was a tall order for something that was formerly a yard of fabric and a spool of thread to fill.

After several hours I found a dress that mostly met my requirements and I was once again excited for the Christmas party. That is, until the in the car on the way there. I began my annual Pre-Holiday Party Worry Fest. What if I was too dressed up? What if I wasn't dressed up enough? What on earth would I talk to people about? What was there to talk about other than the kids and potty training and never ending laundry? What if my eyes glazed over and their conversations about business or whatever else flew right over my head. I put this all to the back of my mind as we neared our destination.

Besides another small panic when we arrived (That's two women wearing pants suits! What if I'm the only one in a dress!?!) the party went fine. Turns out I was dressed just fine. There was good food, great conversation, and I got to enjoy a meal that I didn't have to prepare or clean up after. I don't think I made any major social faux pas and I only talked about the kids when asked. I didn't bring up potty training once. That shouldn't be an accomplishment, but I will confess that it is.

It was somewhere toward the middle of the evening that I realized I shouldn't fret over these things. Most of these people were a lot like me, despite the differences of business professionals versus the stay at home mom. We were all just normal people in a social situation. The angst I felt was based on my own insecurities and not in reality. Maybe next year I can skip the anxiety and just enjoy the party.