Outsourcing: (verb) to obtain goods or services from an outside source. An act that signals an important state of self-awareness and surrender; often a means of survival for mothers of small children.
I am a very patient person. Start a project without reading the instructions first? Abandon an over-ambitious endeavor (or 12) midstream so I can store it and trip over it and feel guilty about it for years to come? Not me! I set aside infinite amounts of time to craft, tinker and otherwise encourage my creative juices. I would never cry uncle and begin to let go of the control I so firmly enjoy in the name of convenience. Not me!
So when I looked at my calendar on a particularly packed Saturday and realized I had a 16-mile training run, Matt's work picnic, the Intermountain Healing Hearts (IHH) family dinner, and a REAL soccer game all scheduled for the same day, I did not panic. Anyone can plan ahead for days like that, right? I most certainly did not pick up the phone and call the world's most gifted cake maker (my infinitely creative and talented sister-in-law) to have her create this for my entry into the heart-shaped dessert contest at the IHH picnic. Not me!
I also did not feel the least little bit guilty when my entry was awarded "Most Creative" and I collected gift certificates to dinner and the movies for all my thoughtfulness and effort. Not me! Afterall, the rules said to bring a heart shaped dessert--there was no distinction or preference expressly mentioned for desserts of either the homemade vs. commissioned variety. (But it does feel good to confess the commissioned nature of my entry!)
I will most certainly be able to look at every member of this unbelievably special group of families in the eyes again and without batting an eye say, "Yes, that's me. The one who brought the fabulous heart cake. You know, the one that won for Most Creative." Not me!
I think they'll forgive me. (Most of them anyway.) Afterall, outsourcing the cake was an act of survival and sanity that weekend--something they all know far too much about. So to all our wonderful heart friends, just remember that when you see a fabulous cake at the picnic next year, you'll know it was definitely Not me!