Come Out, Come Out, Where Ever You Are....

My kids' piano recital was postponed to a later date that will not work for us. On a whim, I suggested to Jane that we should have a private recital at our house instead. To keep it small, I was thinking of just inviting my sister Ling, her husband, and the Wheelers with their young daughter, Clara. But, by the morning of the gathering, my wife and children have expanded the guest list, which happens to also exponentially expanded my stress level. You see, to say that I am not good at social events is an understatement.  It is very painful for me to mingle. When you add the responsibility of hosting, my heart rate goes up, I hyperventilate, and my skin gets clammy.

Eighteen years ago, I hosted a New Year's Eve gathering at my house. It was an excruciating wait until midnight. As soon as the clock struck twelve, and after my guests got to bang on a few pots and pans, I, not so subtlety, ushered them to their cars. I think they were all gone by five after twelve.  Another time, I had some family and co-workers over for a Christmas event. We pretty much sat around in a circle, munched on peanuts, and stared at each other. Judging by the amount of social interactions taking place at the time, an outsider looking on could easily have mistaken us for a 12 step group, and not an effective one at that. It still haunts me years later, I have nightmares.

I am very much an introvert. Left to my own devices, I could easily recluse myself from any human contact and hibernate for an entire weekend. That was frequently the case before I was married. It was not necessary good for me, but, when it comes to socialization, it is my natural level of stasis.

I don't want that for my children. I want them to learn to socialize, to have friends, and to fill their weekends with fun and interesting people. So, for their sake, I am going to drain this glass of social lubricant, today it's Merlot, push myself away from this keyboard, and mingle.....