A peek into my level of crazy

Each year, I try to do something nice for my kids’ teachers for the holidays. I put a lot of thought into it because, frankly, on a per awake-hour basis, they spend the most time with my kids.

I generally like to bake for the holidays, give something indulgent for teacher appreciation day, chocolates for Valentine’s (cliché, but how could you not?) and something kick-ass at the end of the year.

About a month ago, while grocery shopping, I spotted these cute paper and silicone square gift pans. They came 4 in a package and I quickly calculated his kindergarten teacher, her two daycare teachers and the daycare coordinator. Perfect. I also wanted to get a gift for the daycare’s chef, but I know she loves plants, not sweets.

I recipe tested for a bit and decided to go with toffee squares. They were sublime. Then I sat down, looked at my schedule for the next couple of weeks and realized I had to get the baking done fast. Like, the next night.

As it so happened, I had the car the next day and when I picked the boy up from school, I realized, Oh, shit. His after-school care teachers.

And as we were handing in our guest pass and signing out, And the woman at the sign out desk. I love her.

I looked at my watch. It was 5:35. The dollar store and the daycare close at 6. I mumbled out loud, “Okay, so 2 after school care teachers…”

“Three,” my son said.

“What?”

“Three. There’s another one you never see because she leaves at 5.”

Oy.

We ran into the dollar store and I found these super cute snowman-themed plates. Perfect, I thought. I just had to make some more squares, slice them, plate them and wrap them up in cellophane. I even thought to buy cellophane.

We picked up the girl and driving home I realized I didn’t have enough chocolate chips. Or Skör bits. Or butter.

Off to the grocery store we went. We then raced home (relax, dramatic value here, I didn’t speed), the kids sat down to eat supper and I got to work with the baking.

By about 9:00 pm, when I was melting the chocolate on the third batch, I realized I had forgotten about the almonds. I didn’t have enough almonds to make a fourth batch.

The gift pans had already been filled with batter and baked. I technically had enough to fill 4 plates, but those plates would be shy about 4 or 5 squares in comparison to the gift pans.

I, being me, started to panic.

At 10:00 pm, I went to wash my dollar store plates. I was tired and it was time to get plating and wrapping. Imagine my horror when I turned the plate over to dry it and saw, in big, bold letters:

CAUTION: CONTAINS CADMIUM AND LEAD
DO NOT USE FOR FOOD

My panic grew.

“Uh, sweetheart?”

“What is it?” my husband asked.

“I think I need you to go to your mother’s. I need a few plates. They can be paper, I don’t care. But at 10:00 pm at night, I know your Jewish mother is my only shot at getting Christmas-themed plates.”

So off he went. An hour or so later, he returned with 4 beautiful red, snowman-themed plates. Lead and cadmium free.

By the time I wrapped everything up it was about 1:00 am. I was exhausted. It was 3 hours past my bedtime. But as I surveyed my work, I realized I had no idea which gift to give to which teacher.

When all presents were equal, that was fine. But now, while they’re balanced, they’re not exactly equal. We’ve got a decent-looking pan with a greater quantity of sinfully delicious toffee squares, and we have a a beautifully wrapped holiday-themed plate which makes a great gift, but with fewer squares.

Who gets what?

I quickly decided that each institution gets one kind – either a plate or a pan – not a mix. So what do I do? Who’d appreciate what more? I shit you not when I tell you I spent a good 45 minutes worrying about this, trying to figure it out.

My husband just shook his head.

I finally settled on the daycare getting the plates, his teacher getting the remaining plate and after-school care getting the gift pans.

I crawled into bed at 2 am, closed my eyes and thought, There are almonds in the squares.

Shit.

I got out of bed, went downstairs and foraged through my daughter’s crafty things until I found a small, flour shaped pad. I dutifully wrote out the ingredients 8 times, affixed each sheet to a pan/plate and went to bed.

It was 2:30 am.

The next day, I went to work bleary eyed, relieved that it was done but somewhat grumpy from the shortage of sleep. At about 10:00 am, I got an email from the daycare coordinator, thanking me for the squares. I, in turn, texted my husband to thank him for remembering to bring them.

A few minutes later, he replied, saying, “She was shocked. Really, really, really shocked. Couldn’t believe they were for her.”

Fuck.

My husband is constantly telling me I make things too difficult for myself, that I set impossible goals and unnecessarily complicate my life. At first I thought he was gaslighting me, but I’ve come to see he’s right.

And this was just further proof.

There are no expectations placed on gifts. There are no expectations of gifts. Gifts are a gesture; a way of showing appreciation, of telling someone you’re thinking of them.

Who cares who gets a pan and who gets a plate? Why do I care? It’s clear no one else does. Hell, the people with pans didn’t even know about the existence of the plates, and vice versa. Well. Until now. But still – why do I place such high demands on myself for something that should be so much simpler? Why do I drive myself nuts?

But maybe there’s a lesson to be learned here.

Maybe it’s time I stop striving for perfection all the time, and learn to be content with good enough.