The Holidaze
I love this time of year, I really do. This year is turning out to be something of a bust, though.I'm not hosting Thanksgiving for the masses, even though I really wanted to, because of family complications. Instead, my littlest sister is coming up and sharing the holiday with Prince Charming and I. She didn't seem distressed that the menu might be a bit non-traditional because of the small group, so I asked her what would make it "Thanksgiving" for her. She said that the only thing that she really wanted was pumpkin pie.
So we are having homemade pizza and pumpkin pie.
It just doesn't make any sense to cook the turkey, the dressing, mashed potatoes, gravy, cranberries, spinach salad, fresh bread, sweet potatoes, corn, and apple and pumpkin pies just for 3 people.
So, we aren't doing it.
We decided early on that we weren't traveling for Thanksgiving or Christmas this year. This is due in large part to the fact that I have to work the days after these holidays (an arrangement I made to bargain for maternity leave). Another reason was simply my fear that we would get to our destination (or far down the road toward it) and I'd go into labor. The last thing I want to do is deliver in some emergency room or on the backseat, ya know? Call me crazy. The final reason? I have a low bullshit tolerance this year.
Now that seems uncharitable, doesn't it? Please, forgive me. It is just that my idea of the holidays done right is a cozy thing where you can hear music playing in the background, board games played in small groups, excellent food served in style, and love and comfort.
This is not the scene when there are 80 people jostling for chairs, eating standing up off of paper plates, dishing food out of fucking crock pots, food that is over-cooked or poorly seasoned, I might add, all to be followed by a mad spree of flying wrapping paper and quick exits so that everyone can make it to the next stop on the Christmas Trainride to Hell. There is nothing special, soothing, or particularly satisfying about this. Conversation is nearly impossible when you stuff that many people into a tiny venue. And, as we all know, children get a little crazy at Christmas anyway. You put that energy into a pressure cooker and things are bound to get ugly. Bah! It's not my scene.
So the baby is our excuse for missing the "fun" this year. Glorious!
