We’ll be in Atlanta with one of my sistahs and her kids for the weekend. Turkey Day dinner will be at Dad’s house, with various extendo family members of ours and his wife’s attending.
I haven’t had a traditional family Thanksgiving in a while. Since my grandfather died, there have been fewer times that my extended Atlanta clan has convened for holidays. Plus, negotiating hols with divorced parents can be a mine field. Stir in marriage and kids and differing traditions, and, damn, got to wonder why we torture ourselves.
Why are traditions, holidays, quality family time, so important to so many of us? And why do we screw it up so often? Everyone’s got a story about a family holiday gone wrong. I remember a couple stupid, heated debates leading to my wanting to stick a fork, or even a butter knife, into one of my loved ones. Or into one of my spouse’s loved ones.
This year I’m not cooking, which decreases my stress level significantly. All I have to do is show up, drink some wine, and try to keep my kids under control. And try to keep my Dad off the topic of my soon-to-be ex-BIL, who, needless to say, will not be showing his cheating face. But that’s another story for another day.
All this is to say, have a relaxing Turkey Day. Try not to let the fam dynamics get to you. Don’t drink and drive. Or drink and play football, particularly if you only do it once a year (I did that a few years ago, and I couldn’t walk for three days afterwards). Don’t stab anyone with a butter knife. But if you do, let me know, because it’d make great blog fodder.
Happy Thanksgiving!
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My motto is: Drink enough beer to be mellow but not belligerant and all will be well.
I guess we have it pretty good compared to a lot of folks. Our extended family consists of seven sets of brother/sister in-laws, 2 mothers, and numerous kids and grandkids ranging from two to 31 years - and everyone actually gets along.
Of course, there was the time years ago when my sister and I were both teenagers. We got into an argument over something long since forgotten and ended up in a food fight. It was just our immediate family present that year but it was still disgraceful. My mother sent us both away from the table and there was no dinner for us that year.
Have a safe and edgy holiday, EM.
HAVE PHUN in the land of fuzzy peaches, Dame Edgy… I MISS YOU! Can we have a ‘coffee & bitchfest” or “Margarita Monday” when you return? Email me - my cell is still off. Arg.
((HUGS))
alaina
Have fun - I’ll miss you - and I’ll probably confine my alcohol consumption to when I’m with Restless Mama
Yeah, Listless. I’ll e-mail you. Coffee or lunch one day next week would be great. E’s on the road, so I need to be at home in the evenings with the kidlings. I’ll e-mail.
Miss you too, Rio. Have fun, all!
Nice tale, pubcrawler. After Saturday night, I’ve hardly wanted beer. How weird is that?
That is unusual, EM. I could understand it if you had gotten totally s***faced and suffered through 36 hours of party flu. On the other hand, if my home had smelled a bit like a fraternity house the next day my thirst might vary, too. Whatever the cause I hope that the affliction is only temporary. New winter seasonals are hitting the store shelves daily.
Happy Thanksgiving, EM!
Hey EM, you got a turkey photo i can slap up on my bloggie? Mind if i steal one of yorns? ok, i’ll take that as a yes! thanks!
This past weekend, I recalled a bad TDay memory. When I was in grad school, Hubby and I took the little Boston Terrier with us to my parents’. Mom put the mostly carved up turkey carcas in the pantry area adjacent to the kitchen. Boston cleaned it like no one’s business. Then she had gas like no one’s business. The next day we drove 1 and 1/2 hours back home with Hubby hanging her behind out the window the whole way - and it was COLD, too. Hard to forget that one.