Just call me Martha

For some bizarre reason- that I will get to- I decided to host a pre-Thanksgiving cocktail party for my entire family. Granted this idea was birthed after many glasses of champagne (ahem witness profile picture for background)...it seemed brilliant at the time.

My family has this belief that I am about 15 years old, and I continually attempt to prove them wrong. "Look at me I can buy a house!" to which I hear "Well, are you sure you can afford it?" "You know, I have a realtor I can recommend" or my favorite "Don't expect to decorate everything all at once, I mean we've been in our house 10 years and are just finishing projects!" Would you like to submit a timeline for which I should adhere to? Or perhaps just hold my hand as we skip to the bank, the realtor, and the home development office? I know, I should be thankful that my family cares so much...

Which brings me back to THE party. I decided to not only host everyone, but to create all 10 appetizers FROM SCRATCH complete with innovative presentation, ex "Butternut Squash Soup Shots" (actually more delish than it may sound). Why you may ask? Well, perhaps if I can pull it off everyone will realize "wow she truly IS all grown up". I mean, I have my fancy, well-stocked China Cabinet- and what "15 year old" has a full set of china?! So the end result is potentially great, but the past few days I've been working myself into a frenzy over the recipes. What if I'm missing an ingredient? What if it looks yummier on the page than the actual turnout? Should I really make the pizza dough from scratch or just swing over to Whole Foods?

The bottom line: I should've known better. I never do anything half-ass, and when it comes to my family I'm DESPERATE for their stamp of approval. Let's hope they behave after all of the wine I feed them first!