The Day Before Thanksgiving

It's the day before Thanksgiving
And all through the house
My kids are fighting and refusing to do their chores and begging me for candy. And then they get bored and do stuff like this:

I thought about actually rhyming there, but ain't nobody got time for that!

Luckily Grandma came and took Daisy for a while, and Zoe has a friend over to play. That helps a lot with the fighting.

Today I have a pretty big to do list. My Thanksgiving assignments are rolls and Jell-O. I've successfully made rolls for Thanksgiving many-a-time, but when I went back to school in 2014, I stopped making yeasty things and haven't ever really started back up again. I was a little nervous that being out of practice would be an issue with the Thanksgiving rolls, and sure enough... it was!

Home-made rolls were a bust.

My plan was to make three batches over the course of two days  and freeze them until Thanksgiving morning (giving me six dozen). The first mistake I made was not buying enough yeast. My personal rule for the week of Thanksgiving is to shop like the apocalypse is coming and not leave my house from Tuesday to Sunday. My apocalyptic preparation was not sufficient, and after I screwed up my first batch of rolls (an hour and a half into the process), I gave myself a free pass to buy the damn rolls.

Jell-O shouldn't be difficult, but based on my own capacity to ruin food, you just never know. I'm making my step-mom's Thanksgiving Jell-O for the first time, and there are layers and fruits involved. The first layer is setting as we speak. Fingers crossed for Jell-O success! I set aside a mini version for quality control.The good thing is, I'm not taking my step-mom's Jell-O to her house, so if it's "wrong," at least I won't be feeding it to people who know it's wrong! Worst case scenario - I make back-up, fruitless, layerless Jell-O in the morning.

I'm also trying my hand at a bone-in, slow-cooked turkey breast today. I've been quite spoiled in the turkey industry, and I've never had to make a turkey. I did try roasting one once just for fun, and it wasn't great. I don't think it was the roasting that went wrong. I think I just picked a really cheap, low-quality turkey. This time I bought a higher quality turkey, so we'll see what happens. I feel like this is my turkey debut, even though I won't actually be serving this turkey to anyone other than my own household.

I've had to restrain myself from decorating for Christmas. I've got the bug, but I want to wait until after Thanksgiving. Last year we didn't have a real Christmas tree because we were putting in new flooring during December. Having a paper tree was actually really awesome (easiest clean up ever!) but I'm excited to have a real (and by real, I mean fake, pre-lit) tree this year.

I did let my kids put their trees up in their rooms, though. It was a great incentive to get them to clean the house on Monday night (which has since been destroyed and cleaned and destroyed over and over again. Current status: destroyed).

Nicky gave me a list of about ten different themed ideas he had to decorate his tree and wanted me to pick. I chose "Nintendo history" having no idea what he was going to produce.

Here's his creation:

I realize that someday I'm going to have to let this child do a tree for Festival of Trees - speaking of which, he talks about the Festival of Trees constantly. Last year I surprised him by checking him out of school and taking him to the Festival. I'm going to do it again this year. Shhhh! Don't tell! Now the question is... do I take Daisy, too? I'll have to think about that.

We've been trying to do more activities with our kids one at a time. The first time we took Zoe, we went to a Mexican restaurant because she loves tacos. When we pulled in the parking lot, she said, "I don't like being alone with you guys." It was pretty funny. She fights with her siblings constantly but was sad at the thought of eating tacos without them. By the time she had her food, though, she had changed her mind and quite enjoyed being the center of attention. 

Nicky is at an age where he wants to do things that Scotty and I actually don't mind doing, so he tends to get a little more "out" time. In fact, just yesterday, he and I went to see the Crimes of Grindelwald together. I had enough rewards points to get free popcorn and drink, and then we also got nachos, which are a special deal on Tuesdays. He and I were so happy! We sat through the whole movie without anyone needing to pee!!! It was the best! And I loved the movie. 

Earlier yesterday, I took all the kids to see The Grinch. So our family definitely took advantage of a short day of school and  $5 Tuesday at the movies! (Plus I had a Fandango gift card which I won for my Little Debbie Halloween costume, so WINS all around!)

Just in case you're wondering where this post is going... the answer is... nowhere. It's going nowhere. I'm just rambling while I wait to prep the next layer of Jell-O. So here, watch this video by Eclipse 6 - one of few parodies that I sincerely enjoy (I think this one's brilliant).

And I'll disappear while you're distracted.

I really need to wash all the dry shampoo out of my hair {and ten other random facts}

Fact #1: My kids still haven't adjusted to the time change. They are slowly killing me with their 6:05 wakings. I like getting up early, but I don't like getting up early to be a parent. I want a good hour of "no kid" time before I have to worry about people obeying me.

Fact #2: My kids fight like animals having their territory threatened by a predator 80% of the time, and lucky me, it starts by 6:07 a.m.

But...

Fact #3: Each day when Zoe is at kindergarten, Eva tells me she misses her. Then after we get home from picking up Zoe, she and Eva have a tea party before they try to tear off each other's faces.

It's very tender.

Fact #4: Yesterday my son learned how to mummify a chicken at school.

Fact #5: On the list of life skills I want my children to have, mummifying chickens is definitely top ten worthy.

Fact #6: Zoe has an interesting story she tells everyone about how we got Eva. It goes like this:

Once upon a time, my dad went for a walk, and he found a baby on the side of the road, and he brought her home, and we named her Eva.

She has told this story for as long as she has been able to speak. I don't know where she came up with it, but she's serious - she thinks we found Eva on the side of the road.

Fact #7: Nicky's daily outfit for school consists of a Hawaiian shirt and gym shorts. He never wears a jacket or coat, but this week he told me he wanted to "try" wearing a hoodie, just to see what hoodies are all about. Everyday this week he has gotten tangled up in his hoodie while putting it on, and I've had to rescue him.

The kid can make a toilet paper launcher out of a leaf blower, but he can't put on a hoodie.

Fact #8: Apparently the hoodie has "complicated pockets." Nicky has about ten other hoodies he can choose from (thanks to my little brother's DI pile), but he's set on wearing that specific one.

Fact #9: One of Nicky's concerns with wearing hoodies is that people won't know he's wearing a Hawaiian shirt. I recommended that he wear a zip-up hoodie so he has the option of leaving it unzipped to reveal his Hawaiian shirt underneath (and as a bonus, he might even be able to put it on without getting stuck!) He still insists on wearing the "complicated" hoodie.

Fact #10: Nicky is so well-known for his Hawaiian shirts that his teacher sends me links to good deals on them when she sees them. It is because of his teacher that Nicky now owns a Christmas Hawaiian shirt, which I told him he can't wear until after Thanksgiving. He's planning on wearing it to my sister-in-law's beach wedding.

It Happened at McDonald's

I go to McDonald's way more than I'm willing to admit here,

A few weeks ago, I took Eva and Zoe to McDonald's after school, and there was a little girl in the play place who kept stealing our food. She was there with her grandma who wouldn't look up from her cell phone (no judgment, just stating the fact) and who also may have been a meth addict (maybe some judgment for that one). I kept trying to get eye contact from the grandma in a way that wasn't rude but that would encourage her to rescue us from her grabby granddaughter, but Grandma was oblivious.

My next tactic was to say to the girl, "Do you have some french fries at your table? You do? Okay, go get some of your french fries!" That didn't really work, either. I mean, I get it - other people's food always tastes better even if it's the same. The diet of every two-year-old on the planet is proof of that fact!

Then I tried, "Can you climb all the way to the top of the playground and show me how you go down the slide?" That worked once and got her away from us for three minutes, but then she was right back, grabbing at our Happy Meal boxes. My girls went ballistic any time she came near us, and the grandma never batted an eye. Eventually we left because we had to pick up Nicky from an extra-curricular activity.

I was a little flustered at the lengths we had to go to to protect our food, and I'm pretty sure I vowed to never eat at McDonald's again...

...which brings me to yesterday when we went to McDonald's for lunch. This time we went to a different location (we like a change of scenery sometimes).

Once more, we were in the play area, and a little boy in footed pajamas - probably barely two years old, if even that - came over to our table, took Zoe's boots, and put them on his feet. I didn't even realize what he was doing until he started tapping my leg because he wanted help. I looked around for his parents, but I didn't know who he belonged to. I took the boots off him, trying so hard to be kind and to not emit any judgement but also hoping for back-up from his elusive parents. At some point they would come looking for him, one would assume. In an effort to keep things kind, I showed him how the boots light up on the bottom. I let him tap the boots a few times, and then I said, "Okay, time to put the boots away!" and I hid them behind me. Then I tried the 'ole, "Can you climb up to the very top of the playground and show me how you go down the slide?" bit, but he wasn't having it. He wanted the boots! He climbed under my table and tried every maneuver he could think of to get to the boots which I held in place with my feet.

In the meantime, the employee brought out our order (I could write a whole rant about McDonald's pathetic efforts to bring food to the tables, but that is an issue for another day), and the kid started helping himself to our food which reminded me that I was never supposed to eat at McDonald's again. It also taught me that fry thieves are lurking everywhere!

Then the stole my girls' Happy Meal toys and went running out of the play area while Zoe chased him around the restaurant. Finally a dad appeared, took the toys from the boy, made him say sorry, and took him back in the play place. I finally had a location for the dad. He was sitting around the corner and couldn't see us, so any time the boy came over to us, the dad had no idea where he was or what he was doing.

After the toy burglary, the boy came right back to us. He wanted to put our stuff in the garbage (I let him). He went for the boots a few more times, and at one point he started hitting, and I was like, "Whoa, dude! Go get your dad!" and I shoo-ed him back around the corner.

Then he came back once again, and that's when things got really weird...

Because he wanted to rub our feet.

Let me be clear about this: HE WANTED TO RUB OUR FEET.

He started with Eva, who was barefoot. He grabbed her foot, and Eva's face very clearly read, "What the hell?!?" He used both hands, like he'd been taught the art of foot massage. Then he wanted to rub Eva's other foot. After that, he moved to Zoe, who had socks on. He rubbed one foot and then the other.

This whole time, I was so blown away that all I could do was sit back and watch, wide-eyed.

When he finished Zoe's feet, he looked up at me and tapped my shoe to indicate that I was supposed to take my shoes off, and I looked at him, thinking, "Is this really happening?"

In the words of Kris Kross, it was wiggity wack!

I didn't let the kid rub my feet.

And he was mad!

And all the while, his dad had no idea that he was going around the McDonald's play place rubbing strangers.

I came to the following conclusion: when a two-year-old boy at McDonald's tries to rub your feet, no question, it's time to leave.

This Year in Gratitude

Hooray, it's almost Thanksgiving. Even though I have a hard time with holidays, there's one thing that always gets me through: food. So Thanksgiving? Bring it on!

Today I want to share with you one of my favorite studies on gratitude. In my happiness workshops, I talk about gratitude, and I always share this study by Martin Seligman, who is one of the prominent researchers in positive psychology.

Seligman had his participants think of someone who'd had an impact on their lives whom they had not yet thanked. Then he asked them to write a letter of gratitude to that person and deliver it in person.

Immediately after the participants delivered their letters, they reported increased levels of happiness. A week later, they still reported higher levels of happiness. Then one month later, they were still happier than the control group.

This simple act of gratitude boosted their happiness for a pretty good chunk of time! Gratitude is a powerful tool in increasing subjective well-being (that's the scientific term for happiness - because they had to call it something more science-y than "happiness"). So think for a moment - who do you need to deliver that letter to? I know who mine needs to go to. I've known for years, but I haven't written it yet.

In the meantime, here are some things I am grateful for right now:

An Article of Clothing

I am thankful for elastic waistbands. I know there are all sorts of funny things to be said about stretchy pants, but from a realistic perspective, my waist expands and contracts throughout the day. Shouldn't my pants, too?

Waist expansion aside, I really like freedom of movement. Don't get me wrong, I'm a big fan of sitting, but I appreciate being able to lunge at a moment's notice without fear of splitting a seam.

A Form of Movement

I love to dance. I won't say that I'm any good at it, but boy, I love it. Dancing is a part of my daily life. A couple months ago I sprained my ankle, and I couldn't dance for a few weeks. It was devastating. I missed entertaining my family with some pretty sweet Austin Power moves while we cleaned on Saturday mornings.

A Place

I'm very thankful for HOME. My home isn't perfect. It's full of chaos, and it's messy, but it feels safe, and it's mine. I realize my home is shared with several other people, but I am the manager. It's my project, my stewardship, my responsibility. It's a place where I will always have influence. Running my own home is one part of adulthood that I truly love. I don't consider myself a great homemaker, but I'm thankful for the opportunity to try anyway.

A Sound

I'm thankful for nom noms. I don't really like to hear people eating. I don't have misophonia or anything - I just think it's kind of gross. If I do have to hear the sounds of people eating, I want those sounds to be nom noms. Nom noms are themselves a form of gratitude.

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This year I feel a bit guilty about the silly things I have to be thankful for. I mean, here I am expressing thanks for stretchy pants, and even though that gratitude is completely sincere, I realize that I live a frivolous and materialistic existence in which I get to be like, "Oh my gawsh!! I love elastic waistbands!!!"

The other day I laid in bed thinking about human suffering - about some of the worst things that have happened to people. Things I can't even fathom because my life has been so safe. 

Recently I snagged a copy of the book Slave Stealers by Tim Ballard and nearly read the whole thing in one sitting. Tim Ballard is the founder and CEO of Operation Underground Railroad, an organization that rescues children throughout the world from sex trafficking. I've had the opportunity to hear Tim speak a few times, and his stories are hard but necessary to hear. 

One example (and I'll warn you, it's horrific, so skip this paragraph if you must) is the story of a thirteen year old girl who was taken from Mexico and trafficked to the United States where she was raped thirty to fifty times a day. She was "scheduled" every fifteen minutes. I don't even know how she lived through it, and I don't know how a person can even begin to heal emotionally or physically from something like that. 

Whenever I'm reminded of the depth of darkness that exists in this world, I think Who am I? 

Who am I to live in safety?

Who am I to whine about things like slow internet speeds and boogers on the wall?

Who am I to think I have problems?

It makes me feel like a schmuck, and I'm reminded of how truly selfish and spoiled I am, and how I need to be a better steward - not just over material comforts, but over the intangible things that bring light into the world. I have a lot of light in my life, and I take it for granted. Tim Ballard speaks often of light - it's something he needs to be incredibly sensitive to in order to do what he does. As he immerses himself in the darkest evils of this world, he has to be able to find and acknowledge light, or he won't be able to go on.

I think this year, that is what I need to be most grateful for - LIGHT!

I hope I'll become better at recognizing it and spreading it. I think sincere gratitude - whether it's gratitude for safety or gratitude for stretchy pants, or even gratitude for being safe while wearing stretchy pants - is one of the best ways to bring light into the world. 

The Extra Hour

This morning is the type of morning where I look at my kids and say, "I love you very much, but I really need you to go to school. Like, right now."

I blame the time change. They haven't adjusted yet, so all week I've had to do an extra hour of parenting in the morning.

This morning we had waffles for breakfast. I read books to Zoe and Eva. Nicky and Daisy put their laundry away and practiced the piano. They did their morning check lists (got ready for school, made their beds, fed their animals, etc). I did all the girls' hair. We packed lunches, picked our Halloween candy for the day, and took our vitamins. Now the kids are watching YouTube, and it's still not time to go to school.

This is pure craziness.

On Monday, Nicky spent all morning playing the kazoo. He started with "Africa" by Toto. Then he went to the Mission Impossible theme song, and eventually started working his way through every Disney song known to man. He followed me around, boasting of his talent. "Mom, I'm really good at playing the kazoo. Listen... Doo, doo-doo, doo-doo, doo-doooooooo!"

Why didn't I make him stop? Because I knew eventually he would leave the house. And because I spend most of my time with him telling him to stop doing whatever he's doing. I'm forever crushing the kid's spirits. So this time, I let it go. Fine. Play the kazoo three feet from my head for 45 minutes straight in the wee hours of the morning. Just don't grow up to be a serial killer, mmmkay?

Also on that day, Zoe spent a significant portion of her morning putting stuffed animals down her pants. She would wander in the kitchen every few minutes with a new selection of animals and remove them one by one, laughing hysterically. She was so proud of herself! The other kids started calling her "Noah's Ark."

She did this all morning on Tuesday as well. Two days of stuffed animals in her pants.

Yesterday morning Nicky and Daisy wanted to have a wizards' duel. That seemed fine, and I listened to them casting spells on each other while I got ready upstairs. Then I came into the living room and discovered that they were using bread knives as wands.

Geniuses, these children of mine.

So now we have a new family rule: "No casting spells with knives."

(Add that to our other firm house rules of "No acting like a gorilla" and "No licking babies.")

And some kids just sleep for that extra hour. Can you imagine?

And Then There Were Flu Shots

Who annoyed all of Target on Friday afternoon by allowing her six-year-old to roll around on the flooring screaming for 25 minutes?

(A hint: it was not Kelly Clarkson).

I decided to stop by the store after school to get my kids' flu shots. If you get a flu shot at Target, they give you a $5 coupon. It seems logical to me. "Here kid. Suffer through this shot and get $5 to buy something."

(Followed by an hour in the store wherein the kids can't understand why they can't buy a $79.99 LOL doll set or a $34.99 Barbie with their $5 coupon - and basically the whole idea is stupid and not worth it, lesson learned).

From the second we pulled in the parking lot, Zoe went ballistic. I had to remove her from the van by her leg because she was crouched down behind a seat screaming. I dragged her in the store, and boy, I'll tell you what! That pharmacist heard us coming!

The pharmacists know who I am. I'm sure they know a lot of their customers, but the reason they know me is because they once messed up on one of our prescriptions and double-dosed my child with antibiotics (it was a big deal, and I had several apologetic phone calls, and ever since then, they treat me like royalty). I'm cool with that.

But in addition to that, I always have at least one kid screaming when I go to the pharmacy, and I'm usually there in sweat pants after three days of not showering, and just to make it even more interesting, I'm picking up anti-depressants. So yeah... they know me. I'm the depressed housewife with the annoying kids.

Anyway, I approached the counter with a big smile on my face (just to let them know the anti-depressants are working) and an animalistic child thrashing in my arms and said, "Do you have time to do flu shots for us?"

Then it was insurance and paperwork and screaming for the next 15 minutes until it was finally time to stick 'em.

Zoe ran and hid from me over and over, and then I had to crawl in the vaccination booth with her and put her in a straight jacket with my arms and legs until her shot was complete. We were all sweaty and smelly by the time it was done, and the ambiance of the entire store changed when Zoe finally stopped screaming. It was like the building, itself, was sighing with relief

(An hour later, Eva started screaming because she wanted chocolate coins, but she'd picked out a stuffed dog, and well... it got ugly, and one of our coupons didn't work, so we had to go to customer service - child still crying - and the lady there said, "Oh, you're the one with the crying children! You've been here for a really long time!" because an hour previously, she'd come back from her lunch break and had to step over Zoe tantruming in the middle of an aisle).

(We were there for two hours total).

That night my girls all slept at their aunt's house, and she paid them half a million dollars to dust a shelf. Guess where we ended up the next day?

Sorry, Target!

What Happened...

... When I Woke Up This Morning:

I forgot about daylight savings. Something crazy must have happened in the night because my cell phone was unplugged from its charger and flung across the room when I woke up (I fell asleep listening to Harry Potter on a sleep timer, so I know it was on my nightstand when I drifted off). When I finally found it, I picked it up and the time reflected an hour earlier than I thought it was. Between my cell phone moving in the night and the time changing, I was a very confused person.

...Right Before an Extended Family Photo Session Yesterday:

Daisy and Zoe ate Ring Pops, but not just any Ring Pops! TONGUE PAINTER Ring Pops! So their teeth, their lips, their tongues, and half their faces were dyed blue. Then Eva helped herself to my bronzer, and she came out of the bathroom looking like an Oopa Loompa. I held her up so she could see herself in the mirror, and she said, "Oh. I guess I'll take a bath." Five minutes after I got her out of the tub, I found her in the kitchen drawing all over her hands and arms with Sharpies. At that point, I just gave up. When you have 75 people in a family photo (that is an accurate number, I'm not being my usual exaggerating self here) who's going to notice two blue kids and a little girl with Sharpie on her hands?

...When I Brought a Kid Home From School Last Week:

I had the mother's permission to bring a child home from school last week, but the family had a miscommunication and the police were called. I now refer to the incident as "the time I accidentally kidnapped someone."

...When I Took My Three-Year-Old to My Dentist Appointment:

Nicky was going to watch Eva for me while I went to the dentist, but at the last minute, Eva begged me to take her with me. When we got into the exam room, she suddenly flipped out because her pants were bugging her. I told her to play PBS on my phone until I was done having my teeth cleaned and then we would go fix her pants, but she wouldn't relent. I asked the hygienist if  she would mind if I took Eva to the bathroom to see what was wrong with her pants.

In the bathroom, Eva stripped herself down, turned her pants inside-out, and put them back on. Then she decided that wasn't right so she took them off again, turned them back around, and
put them on exactly how they'd been in the first place. Then she said, "There! That's better!"

I made the hygienist wait ten minutes for that.

...While I was Trying to Clean the House for Zoe's Birthday Party:

Eva colored all over the couch with a dry erase marker.

...When I Weaned Myself Off Caffeine Last Week:

I had three days of horrible headaches that made me swear I would never drink caffeine again. I used to not have withdrawal symptoms when I stopped drinking caffeine, but for the last year, if I don't have caffeine every day, I get a really bad headache, and the only thing that fixes it is... caffeine!

After the three days of headaches, I was okay.

...When I Came Home From Church Today After Practicing the Primary Program for Two Hours:

I paid my son a dollar in exchange for a Pepsi he got trick or treating. Mama needed caffeine.

I don't wanna talk about it.