Work for a cause, not for applause. Live life to express, not to impress. Don’t strive to make your presence noticed, just make your absence felt.
I find joy in celebrating the major milestones of others, but over my short years, I’ve come to the conclusion that celebrations bring the best and worst out of people.
Criticisms about the cost, groans about wishing well requests or gift registries, complaints about giving up a weekend. Isn’t life supposed to be about people and not things? Since when did we all become so ‘busy’?
There’s nothing wrong with celebrating something good. Money is never ‘misused’, nor time ever ‘wasted’, if spent on creating a lasting memory or being a part of a loved-ones milestone. Life and memories are built on these moment and we don’t get many of them. It just makes me think… if you roll your eyes when an invitation arrives, scoff at a gift request or pass spiteful comments in secret, you’ve got to ask yourself, do you actually care for this person? and if you’re feeling that way, you probably shouldn’t attend anyway.
Maybe we have too many acquaintance and not enough friends? Maybe we don’t actually care enough? Has this new breed of professional party planning ruined genuine celebrations? Since when did everything become such a competition? Why are we so sceptical of everything and everyone?
In saying this, it’s time for my pity party.
As the count down to the baby shower draws closer, I reflect back on all the major milestones of my life. At the age of 26, there really aren’t too many of them. There have been birthdays, two graduations (one in which I unfortunately didn’t even attend), an engagement, a wedding and now a baby shower. As I mull over some of these occasions, I find that I’m not overcome with deep joy or nostalgia… only a quiet, but lingering sense of disappointment. I think I’ve finally come to the conclusion that for a long while now I’ve felt constantly disappointed. Can you hear my tiny violin playing?
I’ve never thought that I was the centre of the universe, nor would ever want to be, but I feel I’ve learnt even at my age that if you want something done, just do it yourself. Don’t expect anything from anyone.… including a pat on the back… or a celebration. People will always be too busy, too forgetful, too self-absorbed or just not genuinely interested. The truth is, zero expectations means zero disappointment. I won’t be robbed of my joy any longer. No one can be blamed but myself… it’s my fault for expecting more from others, when all along I should be expecting more for myself. Deep… yeah, I know.
Amongst my usual over analysis on life, it’s baby shower time, or as the bitter old cynics call it…the ‘greedy grab’. Over the last few weeks I’ve filled the time with stationary and baby shower supplies. It’s been all consuming and absolutely mind-numbingly wonderful! I’ve designed and handmade everything. Hubby actually offers to organise the shower for me. He’s so sweet, but the thought of it makes me feel like an even bigger loser. “It’s ok, I’ll do it myself… I’m sure others will help me”. I know that he always feels sorry me. It’s probably because he belongs to a sort of ‘brotherhood’ of blokes. It’s different for boys though, isn’t it? In saying that, I have dragged him into the prep to utilise his gift of being able to cut super straight with scissors! He’s definitely a keeper. I feel that in my previous life I may have been a party planner. I’ve planned my baby shower… from every decoration to every game. No, I didn’t have a gift registry. I genuinely don’t want a party for gifts. I literally don’t need them. I have fantastic hand-me-downs coming out my ears and I’m pretty sure babies can survive with just a few things, right? Yes, I ordered a fancy, expensive cake. So what? I just want something good to celebrate. Is that such a bad thing?
As always, it’s family who are the ones who step-up organising details, lending and sourcing supplies and making all the food… they are my greatest friends and allies. Friends also help out on the day ensuring everything goes to plan.
The day looks just as I’d imagined. Yeah, the tea may have been a bit cold and the weather not too great, but thanks to those of you who didn’t feel the need to point that out to me. I felt extremely uncomfortable. I had nothing to wear. I didn’t like my outfit. Thanks to those of you who just told me how great I looked. I’m blocking out the negative. They won’t take this away from me. It’s amazing how there’s always that one who tries to make everything about them. This may be a party, but it’s really a therapy session… one with games and cake. I don’t actually even want to be here. I purposely didn’t open the presents in front of everyone. Honestly, I didn’t want your presents (but I’m extremely grateful for them!) but I just wanted you, my friends… to help me celebrate something I’m having troubles finding the joy in.
I mutter to myself over and over, “this is good for me”… I think my pity party has finally come to a close. I did this… and I did it for me. In all my glorious awkwardness and fear, I survived the shower. He’s still kicking around. It didn’t jinx anything. It’s another milestone… a celebrated one. I now look back over photos with joy and nostalgia… with my friends and family.
A baby is brewing… and he’s worth the celebration… He’s worth the effort… and Little One, I haven’t been one bit disappointed.
“I took it off. I did not want to carry it with me anymore.”
34 weeks
The fancy cake
Some of the decorations
A baby is brewing
The Mummy Wagon 