File under: Glad I did it, but will never do it again

I have always loved the Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade. Growing up, I watched it every Thanksgiving morning, eagerly waiting the arrival of Santa at the end. My favorite part though was always the giant character balloons. How cool, I'd think, to see those in person.

Tonight we did! We bundled up and headed into NYC to see the balloons get inflated up on the streets of the Upper West Side. This event has evidently become as popular as the parade itself because it was packed. Police and others force everyone to walk in one direction - block to block - to see the balloons. I suppose it does help keep the crowd under control, but it has a definite cattle call feeling to it. And some people are just, well, rude. Some guy with a kid on his shoulders knocked Sophie over, looked at her and kept right on going. I mean really, a simple, "ooops, sorry," is totally necessary in that situation.

Regardless, the girls were SO excited:



We saw several balloons including . . .

Shrek:



Kool-Aid:



As well as Sponge Bob, Hello Kitty, Diary of a Wimpy Kid and Spiderman. We also skipped a whole block where a few favorites (Scooby-Doo most namely) were undoubtedly housed, but the masses, the stress of trying to hang on to your kid as other people constantly pushed between you, the slow-as-molasses crawl in one direction through the streets and two tired, hungry girls, forced us to abort the mission.

All in all? I'm glad we did it, mostly because it means we NEVER HAVE TO DO IT AGAIN!!

Here is the aftermath:



And . . .



Tomorrow we'll all be eating turkey and mashed potatoes and pie . . . but for some reason, I can't stop thinking about frog legs. Hmmmm . . .



Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!!

A Thanksgiving Story . . . more than a week later

By now, the Thanksgiving leftovers are long gone and everyone has moved on to Christmas.

But wait! WAIT! I never shared my Thanksgiving story. I never told you all how Thanksgiving morning - four hours before 11 people were supposed to show up and expect a turkey and all the trimmings on a lace tablecloth with damask napkins and four kinds of homemade pie - the pluming in our house IMPLODED.

Seriously.

I walked up the hall at 8 a.m. and there was Mark, standing over a toilet with water filled Right. Up. To. The. Brim.

So I did what any hostess would do under the circumstances. I left the house to run a Turkey Trot 5K while he tried to snake out the clog.

(And I need to mention here that my mother-in-law arrived Wednesday night to get dinner going in the morning so that I could run in said Turkey Trot. She rocks).

But I digress.

So I go off to trot with the turkeys and give the home situation very little thought. After all, I have two young children who use 17 times the toilet paper necessary every time they sit their dainty butts on the loo. I assumed (and you know what happens when you assume) that the problem would be rectified toot sweet.

Except, it wasn't.

When I arrived home 90 minutes later, the first thing I saw was Loaf, fully dressed. The second thing I saw was the back of the van wide open and loaded with suitcases. Oh. Crap. (Not literally, but close enough).

Mark met me at the door and explained that every drain in the house had stopped working. Nothing was going down anywhere. And to make things even more fun, water was pouring out of the ceiling in the garage.

Awesome.

Fortunately, my brother- and sister-in-law stepped up to the plate and Saved Thanksgiving! Unfortunately, they live an hour away.

Have you ever moved an entire Thanksgiving feast an hour away on Thanksgiving day? Well let me tell you, it is quite the feat.

My mother-in-law had already taken the bird and left because getting that sucker in the oven was of primo importance. None of us really wanted to eat dinner at 9 p.m. In the meantime, Mark and I packed up the rest of the food: trays of sweet potatoes, pies, potatoes for mashing, a huge salad, a vat of salad dressing, as well as all the condiments, sauces, spices, beverages and trimmings we'd need for the meal.

And in what can only be called a Thanksgiving miracle, we managed to remember everything but a few pears I was going to slice and toss into the salad (it didn't need them anyway).

We then drove both cars (so Mark could come back at the crack of dawn to meet the plumber on Friday) to the relative's house.

Thanksgiving was a resounding success and the next day we found out that the problem was just a tree root that had grown into one of the main pipes. (Nice timing tree. Really. Thanks a lot).

But all in all, it could have been SO MUCH worse. We may not have found a backup host so quickly. It could have happened AFTER the guests arrived. It could have been thousands of dollars in repairs. So overall, I ended up being pretty thankful anyway.

OK. Phew. Got that one in. On to Christmas . . . .

Gratitude

Today, in the midst of the hustle and bustle, the preparations, the cleaning, the cooking, the eating and the socializing, they came to me.

One rushes to me from the end of the hall – arms outstretched, a wide smile, feet racing, hair flying back from her face. I bend and scoop her up and up, tossing and catching her. I bring her close to me. She wraps her arms around my neck and squeezes. I walk with her and she whispers in my ear. She pats my cheek with her hand, then plants a smooshy kiss on my cheek.

The other stands before me, arms reaching up. Enormous eyes and an air of desperation. She says nothing, but stands before me – a ballerina balancing on her toes. Her expression pleads, “pick me up, pick me up,” so I do and I sway with her on my hip. She rests her head on my shoulder. I hold her close.

Similar scenes repeat throughout the day. One races to me and curls into my lap while I sit at the table. The other takes my hand and places it, gently, against her cheek, looking up at me with pure adoration.

My God, I am so blessed. So loved. So thankful.

See how they grow

Every year at Thanksgiving, I like to look back and see how much my kids have grown over the last year.

The difference between 2006 and 2007 was striking, but looking back at last year, notsomuch.

Here they are, last Thanksgiving Day:

Before dinner, dressed in the Pilgrim and Indian costumes they made at school.



Right before our first guests arrived.



I'm sort of relieved to see this. I know they're going to be all grown up before I know it, but maybe it's not happening quite as quickly as it sometimes seems.

Happy Thanksgiving everyone!

Giving thanks

Grateful for my husband, your immense love, loyalty and support, for making me feel beautiful through your actions and words, for being an amazing, tender and supportive father and for sharing your life with me.

Grateful for my children for being two of the most pure, wonderful, sweet souls I have ever encountered, for all your squeezy hugs and smooshy kisses, for filling my heart with more love than I thought possible and my days with more joy than I deserve.

Grateful for my mom for being so strong and beautiful and wonderful and for not holding my teenage years against me.

Grateful for the rest of my family (including my inlaws), all of whom bring something special and cherished to my life.

Grateful for my home. Perfect though it is not, it keeps us warm and safe and comfortably holds 27 people on Thanksgiving.

Grateful for my friends, who I wish I had more time for right now, but who I know I will have more to give back to in the future.

Grateful for my cat, who is soft and warm and gentle and curls up with me, purring all night and giving me immense affection and joy.

Grateful for my health and the health of my family.

Grateful for those who have sacrificed—all throughout the ages—to make our country and our world free and safe.

Grateful for the food that we eat everyday, from the simplest snack to the most extravagant meal.

Grateful for life and all the wonderful surprises that it brings every single day.

A look back: Thanksgiving '06

Getting ready for the big day tomorrow, so here's a look back at last year. I can't believe how much the girls have grown and changed!



The centerpiece I made. Considering I am about the least crafty person on the planet, I think this is pretty great.



Grown-up table before the feast.



Patiently waiting for everyone to arrive.



Posing with Grandma and Grandpa.



Loaf in her high chair (!) last year. This kills me. She's still such a baby here. What a change.



And here's Peanut. Something tells me she'll be able to reach the table a little better this year. Oh and no worries, that's not her wine. ;-)



Kids' table.



Another view of the kids. There will be a few more there this year.

An intimate dinner for 27

Over the past few days, I have gotten great amusement from telling people that I am hosting Thanksgiving dinner for 27 people at my home on Thursday.

This is our third Thanksgiving with a big crowd. We had 25 in 2005 and 21 last year, but our family keeps growing and my sister-in-law is coming all the way from Oregon with her new husband to be with us this year, so it’s the biggest crowd yet. When I tell people, the jaw drops, eye pops and questions are pretty entertaining.

Here are some of the most common questions:

Who are all these people?
They are all from my husband’s side of the family. There is my mother-in-law and her husband. Mark’s two sisters, his brother, their spouses and children. Then we have three of my mother-in-law’s husband’s adult children, their spouses and children (one couple in this group has five children ranging from a teenage girl to a five-month-old son. They are saints.) And then, of course, the four of us. There are 11 kids under 12, a couple of teenagers and then the rest are adults.

Are you cooking for all those people?
Yes and no. I have a number of things to prepare, but everyone who is coming is contributing something. There is no way I could pull this off without all the wonderful help I am receiving. I am happiest that I have no pie responsibilities (thank God, because while I love to bake, I cannot stand making pies).

Can you fit all of those people in your house?
Yes, and fairly well too. Our house is nothing fancy – just a 1950s-circa ranch. It has small bedrooms, but very large common rooms. We have two large “living rooms” (one I guess is technically a game room since it houses a pool table) that are next to each other and very open, a large dining room with VERY long antique dining room table and a fairly big kitchen.

Do you have a kids’ table?
Yes, we have a cover that converts our pool table into a flat surface. That serves as the kids’ table.

How do you feed everyone in an orderly way?
We feed the kids at the pool table first. All the respective parents set them up with food and drink and get them situated and eating. Then we wait until they are done. Honestly? This takes about 10-15 minutes. Kids are very fast eaters. Once they are done, the adults go into the dining room and eat.

It must be total chaos.
Well, yes, a bit. But it’s good chaos – a warm, happy chaos. The kids play together well and keep each other entertained for the most part while the adults mingle and spread out keeping an eye on things

So that should give you an idea of what my Turkey Day will be like this year. Fun. Crazy. Stressful. Warm. Loving.

What are you expecting this year?

No more Ms. Nice Guy!

So I'm working my butt off to get my house ready for Thursday, when 23 people will show up expecting succulent turkey, an array of fabulous side dishes, freshly baked breads and delectable pies. To make for a nice atmosphere, I am painting trim, hanging pictures, scrubbing floors and carving gourds so that I can stuff them with fresh flowers and turn them into lovely centerpieces. And, of course, I'm obsessing about the food, all so that I can attempt to create as close to a Rockwellian Thanksgiving as possible for my guests.

Which is why the little trail of mouse poo I spied on floor near the fridge today is seriously bumming me out.

You know, I love animals. I try to be very Zen in my approach to other life forms. Instead of squashing insects, I operate my own six-legged catch-and-release program. But mouse poop? On my floor? On my perfect little family Thanksgiving? Is un-FUCKING-acceptable.

I have tried to be fair to the MICE living in my home this fall. The humane trap has been clicking away day and night and each mouse that is caught is driven down the road to the golf course and released without harm. But those days are quickly coming to an end. Because I? Have HAD it!! I'm *thisclose* to picking up a gallon of poison on my way home today and killing them all. How dare they invade my house and leave their dirty, disease ridden feces on my kitchen floor.

This is a very big change for me. I am not a killer, so maybe this is some type of temporary insanity? But in any event, I laughed and laughed when I stumbled upon this earlier today. We are of one mind Bitter Betty. One mind.