No Crying Allowed

In the 24 hour period between 4 pm on Friday and 4 pm on Saturday, we baked 1,000-ish pies at PJP Buttonwood.  And look, I don't mean to freak you out or anything, but we pulled it off with NO CRYING.

I know, right?

For most of last week, we agreed that staying for an all-night baking session on Friday was probably the only way it was all going to get done and delivered on time.  And interestingly enough, surrendering to the all-night reality made it a little easier to handle as late Friday afternoon turned quickly into late Friday evening...and then early Saturday morning.  And the benefit that no one really tells you about baking all night long is that by 9 am, it feels like it is 3 pm and so when you finally have a Jumbo Strawberry Margarita on the rocks at 3 pm, it feels like 10 pm.

So what finally changed so that we can handle a non-stop 24 hour baking schedule with as little drama as possible?

1. Acceptance is key.  We didn't fight it.  We didn't lament that we weren't wearing yoga pants and watching Grey's Anatomy (or Bonanza, in Jeanne's case).  We just baked and tried not to look at the clock.
2. We discussed reality.  And the reality is that staying overnight is way better than not staying and then having nothing ready for pickup and completely panicking about it.
3. We accepted help.  Gunnar, Mac, and Kayla stayed with us until the wee hours of the morning.  And then Gunnar and Mitch arrived at 6 am to push us through the final seven hours.  Sydney manned the front of the store like a champ while we delivered various pies to various functions.
4. We let the other one freak out.  We each hit low moments but tried to make sure that we didn't simultaneously panic about how much there was to do.  I know it sounds obvious, but spreading the self-doubt and anxiety around is better than falling down that rabbit hole together.
5. We tried to be zen about the things we couldn't control.  By the time it was all finished, the kitchen was a disaster, we looked like hell, and we were so over pie.  So we just turned off the lights, locked the door, drank a margarita, and both went home and slept for 12 hours.  Because what else can you do after all that?  (Ok, maybe cry a little with relief...)