I survived!

I think. I was a bit preoccupied over the weekend. Something about preparing for a 100-person party with little/no help. Go figure. But amazingly enough, it turned out great!

My mother-in-law and I spent Friday making about a gazillion sopapillas as a part of the new and revised Mexican sundae dessert for my Cinco do Marcho celebration. So imagine my delight when Jamie and I went to drop off some supplies at the church that night, only to discover that another congregation had not one but two chocolate fountains. Let’s just say that more than a few feathers were ruffled.

We went over early the next day to decorate. With the pinatas, balloons, streamers, fiesta banners, serapes, sombreros and the gazillion and one tissue flowers I made (whilst weeping away to such quality chick flicks like Pride and Prejudice) the room was transformed into a veritable Cinco de Marcho (or Eleveno de Marcho as I also sarcastically christened it).

The actual event went off without a hitch. At least according to the reports because I didn’t leave the kitchen all night. But the food was devoured and laughter frequent. I was paranoid about how the karaoke would go over with a rather conservative, older crowd and no alcohol. But I saw our congregation in an entirely new [and often disturbing] light as they belted their little off-key hearts out.

The only thing that was missing was Jamie, who was home sick. The only time we’ve ever karaoked was a couple of years ago at a friend’s house. We are not known for our musical prowess but when that boy got up in front of our friends, he started throwing out rock-star moves I never knew he had.

Lost in the moment, I threw my rock-star groupie self at his feet with a rather memorable dive that would have scored me at least a 9.5 in competition. Too bad I was five months pregnant with Hadley at the time, thereby explaining the indentation on her head when she was born. I call it her groupie birth mark. Ahhh, a repeat performance this time around would’ve brought down the house. Nothin’ like a tone-deaf rock star with his pregnant groupie….

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