We had not one, but two Thanksgivings this year.  We had Fakesgiving, where my in-laws visited my parents' house on the Tuesday before Thanksgiving, because E was going to his dad's house for actual Thanksgiving (which turned out well because I took q2 call over Thanksgiving...and it almost killed me).  And then we trekked down to the in-laws' homestead on my post-call day (and I spent most of my time en route and en scene sleeping...) and ate more Thanksgiving dinner.

I'm fairly certain I never want to see another turkey again.

At least not until Christmas...

So I'm giving thanks this year that I have a pair of excellent cooks for a mother and a mother-in-law.  Because the Lord knows I'm not an excellent cook and my limited skills will have to undergo somewhat of a miracle to get up to par when it's my turn to take over the holiday meal-making.  I'm betting it'll be a while, though. Or my sister/one of my sisters-in-law will do the duty.

A girl can dream.

Social Hour

A couple of days ago, E was headed outside to play with a few friends down the street (which is another post entirely, as this new development causes me much anxiety and a little bit of heartache), he asked when one of his friends, Matthew, could come over to our house.
"Maybe this weekend, babe, but not today."
"AWWWWW, WHY NOT!?" The inevitable whiny answer (and that's yet another post. Kid drives me nuts.)
"Because J and A [my friends...] are coming over, remember?"
"Oh yeah...well, maybe Matthew would like to meet some new people!"

This is what happens when you're an only child.  You assume that adults and children interact.  Silly rabbit...

It's for Posterity

Last night, while performing a much-needed clearing of my desk, E wandered in and happened to catch me putting some of his old homework in the recycle bin.

"Mom!" He exclaimed, with a shocked look on his face. "What are you doing? Why are you throwing away my art?!"
"I'm keeping the good ones, don't worry." (Probably not the best choice of excuses, in retrospect, but hindsight is 20/20 and I hadn't meant to get caught.  He treasures his handiwork.)
"Well, I'm going to stand here and keep an eye on you." He took a sturdy, determined stance right at my elbow, and bent his eagle eye on me, a disapproving glare writ on his face.
"Ok...??" I murmured, somewhat cowed.
"Because, what if, someday far away, when my wife has children, that artwork could inspire my children?!?!"

Always thinking ahead, that one.

Luckily for me, D reminded him that we have countless files (and paper copies) of his artwork saved up, and it's not likely to go anywhere before those nebulous children make their existences known.

I'm not sure whether he's really that concerned with the artistic development of his offspring or just egotistical...He's seven, though, and the world really does revolve around him, so I suppose I can't blame him.