When we signed up for the oneg, I had clearly been in a delusional state. Rather than dwelling anywhere close to reality, I routinely choose the fantasy. (Or the comfortable state of denial.) We have never actually arrived on time to a Tot Shabbot service on time. I had thought by October 2, we would have mastered the ability to get out of the house in less than four hours. I imagined that we could arrive to the thirty minute Tot Shabbot service on time. I also presumed that our financial state would have dramatically improved and coming up with cheese and crackers for 30 families wouldn't have phased me.
The kids awoke at almost 6. I am sticking to the script that Nora is about to hit a milestone (crawling, right?) and that is why she woke up every two hours like clockwork. Nevertheless, we stumbled at of bed and attempted to organize the team to get out the door "on time."
It's Saturday, so pancakes had to be made. Clothes had to be uncovered from the bottom of clothing piles, inspected and perhaps de-wrinkled with a hair dryer. Parades occurred through the kitchen and up the stairs. And the constant cries of "Come on, Team! Let's get it together!" from me.
Oh, and the oneg. We actually didn't have the cash to swing by and pick up cheese and crackers. Daycare has been snacking on our bottom line and we are back to recessionista cooking. I had thrown together some pizza dough the night before and decided I would roll it out to cracker consistency. I riffled through the fridge to find some stuff to put on it. We did buy a block of sharp cheddar, so there was that at least.
Here's what I came up to top the "crackers"...
* Butternut squash puree with goat cheese.
* Refried beans with salsa and sharp cheddar.
* Roasted garlic tomato sauce and sharp cheese.
And yet, I felt sheepish. They were clear that it was supposed to be "cheese and crackers." My internal monologue turned in circles. "What if everyone gets angry because I didn't follow directions? What if everyone thinks that I was trying to one up everyone? What if they all start pointing and laughing, "Stupid Christian!" Dave waltzed in to say something to ease my pain, but my anxiety only twisted it into a barb that hurt me further.
We got in the car right as the service was to start and arrived in time to enjoy the last 15 minutes. Perhaps it was a victory just to get there?
Dave and I actually decided to do dueling blog posts this morning. Take a peek on his take of the morning at High Impact Papa.