Nov
29
Every Sunday night I feel a great exhaustion hit me like a wave of I’m so tired I can’t even finish this stupid metaphor, but man, tonight in particular I am so, so ready to switch over to the weekday routine. Which of course is a chaotic, draining grind all on its own, but at least it’s . . . well, shit, I don’t even know where I’m going with this. I’m ready to do something other than bark at children to BE CAREFUL and STOP JUMPING ON THE COUCH DON’T MAKE ME SAY IT AGAIN and CEASE AND DESIST WITH THAT HORRIBLE, BRAIN-RENDING SCREAMING BEFORE MOMMY’S HEAD FUCKING EXPLODES while simultaneously shoveling butter-drenched leftovers in my nag-hole, I guess.
I can really tell a major difference in how I feel after several days of eating so much junk. For one thing, I took a slobbering nap today—or at least tried, before Dylan magically sensed I was starting to fall into that wonderful state of complete restfulness and immediately began blatting from his crib—and I never need to nap. In addition to the lagging energy, there’s the general crabbiness, impatience, feelings of Woe, and the sensation of being painfully inflated like a bicycle tire complete with occasional gunshot off-gassing.
It’s so pathological, because while I’m able to recognize how crappy I’m feeling from sugar-binging, I still found myself baking “one last batch” of cookies earlier. Because Monday is a new day, so I may as well go out with a bang! Literally!
Well, ANYWAY, speaking of food, our Thanksgiving meal was a rousing success even though I technically didn’t quite get everything out of the oven at the exact same moment because I am not a space-time altering ninja. The children naturally refused everything with the exception of a small piece of dry turkey which Riley tolerated before joining his brother in front of that old holiday television classic, “Baby Einstein: Shut Your Goddamned Whining”, but everyone else professed to enjoy the meal in its entirety, even that Jello salad you’re so afraid of.
Wusses.
I hope you guys all had a great holiday. I’m thankful for sleeping children, fresh starts, and you.
Nov
23
I engaged in some power-whining a couple months ago about not wanting to travel too much over the holidays and how I was hoping we’d keep things more low key this year because as lovely as it was visiting JB’s brother’s fiancee’s parents (got that?) last time, their house is spotless and features lots of pointy marble things and their dinner spread is like something crafted by set designers for a keepsake Gourmet magazine (RIP) layout. Between constantly scanning to be certain that one of my feral children isn’t pulling a collection of Waterford crystal onto their heads and having a hand at the ready to clap over the other one’s mouth in case he decides to loudly describe a food item that took seventeen consecutive hours to prepare as “yucky”—while, by the way, being personally poured into something that requires Spanx—well, just thinking about it makes me want to crawl into a closet and suck on dog hair.
So anyway, we’re having Thanksgiving at our house this year. This all seemed like a very good idea until this morning when it sort of hit me all at once that I have to produce an actual non-microwaved meal this week, at which point I launched into the exact same process I experience every time I host a holiday:
1. PANIC! Consider faking own death.
2. Pore over 257319 recipe websites, considering which seventy-step dish I should try for the very first time this year. Should I buy a chef’s torch? Make croissants from scratch? I should at least replace all our dishes and get some raw silk table linens and sterling silver napkin rings and maybe plan on at least seven courses, not including the amuse-bouche and palate cleansing sorbet and—
3. Fuck it, man. These people are getting Stove Top and paper plates. I hate everyone and everything. Cram it up your pilgrim-hole, Thanksgiving.
4. OH FINE I GUESS I SHOULD BUY A GODDAMNED TURKEY.
5. Panic! Consider faking own death.
I am now in step 6, where I’ve figured out what I’m going to serve and I’ve created the monstrous shopping list and I think I have it under control, except I just found out JB’s parents are arriving tomorrow and all I can say is I hope they don’t mind pizza between now and Thursday because seriously. See also: step 1, step 5.
We’ll stick to the basics—turkey, potatoes, stuffing—for the meal but I think I’ll sneak one weird thing in there that probably no one will like except me. This is a recipe from my Aunt Eileen, and I have very fond memories of it.
Aunt Eileen’s Jello Salad
2 cups hot water
2/3 cups cinnamon candies
1 large lemon Jello
1.5 cups applesauce
8oz cream cheese
1/2 c. chopped nuts
1/2 c. chopped celery
1/2 c. mayonnaise
Pour hot water over candies until melted. Add jello and stir in applesauce. Pour 1/2 of mixture into bowl or mold. Chill until set. Blend cream cheese and nuts and celery and mayo. Spread over set mixture. Pour on remaining mix. Chill.
Oooh, it’s just all spicy and creamy and cool and it’s a pretty red color and looks particularly nice in a glass dish and I’m telling you, you should try it. Even if it is weird, which fine, it sort of is.
What are you doing for Thanksgiving, if you’re celebrating? Do you have any oddball family favorite recipes that are part of your holiday meal?
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