I should be bowling right now but I’m not. I don’t even bowl, but that’s beside the point.
A couple weeks ago, Christopher’s friend from work asked him if he would like to join a bowling team. He kinda laughed at the guy, and told him he couldn’t bowl. The guy told Christopher that they only needed someone to fill the spot- they didn’t really have to be good at bowling. Just come out and have a good time. He asked if I would be interested, and Christopher laughed and told him, “she REALLY CAN’T bowl.” But, it sounded like it could be a good time, so we decided to do it.
We just needed to find a sitter.
My older three kids go with Superdad every Wednesday after school until about 8pm, and then they go over to his house each weekend. It used to be that he picked them up on Saturday morning, but then we switched it to Friday night after school. They are at that age now that they do a lot of activities and leave his house for sleepovers, skating, and hanging out at the mall on the weekends. Almost every weekend one or two of the kids are spending the night somewhere else or doing something outside his house. So, we thought we’d ask him if Reagan could come over for a few hours to watch the kids for us so we could go bowling.
Reagan was super excited about it all. She couldn’t wait to pick up money for skating while having to do relatively nothing. No chores or stinky laundry. No doing the dishes. Just sit and play on the computer with the kids and bam, almost enough money to go skating every week. She was on cloud nine about this idea. So, I figured since she was completely 100% on board, I’d make the call to Superdad and ask him if it were okay with him… since it WAS his visitation time with the kids– and I didn’t wanna take away from his time with her if he had something planned.
He got really upset, and tried to play the card that he was appalled I’d ask her to come babysit during his precious time he has with his daughter. He wasn’t comfortable having her committed to coming home EVERY Saturday, but certainly not THIS Saturday. How dare I try to take that time away from him? How dare I make her come home for slave labor, when she could be bonding with him. Granted, he didn’t SAY any of those things– but I could totally hear it in his tone of voice. He was talking down to me, and being a jerk. It was only for like 3 hours. She goes to THE MALL longer than that when she’s supposed to be having “quality time” with him. How is that any different? And she WANTS to do it. But he had friends coming in from out of town this weekend, and they all had plans. I suddenly thought I understood, and it was short notice after all. I didn’t wanna ruin his plans and take her away from that time hanging out with family from out of town.
Yeah, he had plans alright…
“Well, I have friends coming in town this weekend, and we were planning on going out. We were gonna have Reagan watch Superbaby while we were gone.”
ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?!?!
He just spent that whole time acting all condescending to me like how dare I take his time with his child away from him, and cut it short… when really all he was upset about was that HE wouldn’t have a babysitter for HIMSELF?
I shoulda known better. It seems almost every weekend he’s got one or two kids spending the night over here, over there… Reagan watches Superbaby a lot for him so they can go out and have a good time.
She lives with me full time, and *I* can’t have the same perks? Oh, I forgot– I can… but because she’s never with me on the weekends, then if *I* wanted to go out, I’d have to keep her up late on a school night– and what kind of parent would that make me?? So now, when I finally have a child old enough to actually really help me out, and give me some social freedom again– for the first time in over ten years– it’s ripped out from underneath me. Because he’s not “comfortable” with that idea…
How is it that I deal with ALL of the crappy things. The drama, the fighting, the laundry, the bickering, the cleaning, the puking (cuz he couldn’t possibly take them if they are puking– cuz then his daughter over there would get sick…). I take them to school every morning bright and early when I’d rather be sleeping in, and if I don’t– Christopher does… and they aren’t even his kids. We buy all of their shoes and school supplies, backpacks, and coats.. and we provide pretty much everything else… but when the first big perk comes up after all of this hard work… I can’t even enjoy it because he doesn’t wanna relinquish his babysitter time with her.
I wish I could chuck this bowling ball at him… since I won’t be tossing it down a lane anytime soon…
Earlier I wrote about the brother I never knew and that I was going to try to get in touch with the boy who so closely shares my dad’s name. In January, this was one of my New Year’s Resolutions, but it took a lot of time to get up the courage to finally send an email and take the first steps. I knew it was going to cause a lot of drama, but eventually– the desire to know if I had another sibling overshadowed the risk of the drama it would cause.
He doesn’t use his FB account, and he’s not online anywhere else. I found his Mom, Dad and sister on FB though, and struck up a few conversations with them. It was kind of shady on my part, as I had no desire to be their friends, I just acted like it so I could get any information from them about this boy that I could. None of them had pictures of him uploaded, and I tried (without sounding obsessive) to get them all to upload pics, but to no avail. I just wanted to see if he looked like my dad.
Finally, I decided I was going to take the plunge. I acquired his email from his mom, and I wrote up an email to send to him. I tried to just lay it on out and give him all of the facts I’d been presented with. The following is a copy of said email:
I randomly search the internet for stories involving children all of the time. Stories of disaster, stories of accidents, stories of pure miracles. If it involves a child and it will tug at my heartstrings, I’m a sucker to click the link. I love stories with happy endings, and have been known to shed a tear or several over these stories, but against my better judgment, I’ve been known to click the links where the baby is harmed in someway. I always cry for the family, and it helps put mine in perspective. While mine might drive me crazy, mine are healthy and strong, and doing great. By great I mean, their lungs are well developed to yell at me from across the house about how I’ve messed up this or that and why I fail because… While I’m pregnant (or shortly after I have the baby) I’m especially susceptible to tearjerker stories because I have a strong deep seeded desire to be paranoid out of my mind with every this-that-or-the-other that my newborn may have.
One of these articles I read once was about a friendship formed on a Mommy’s Forum between two women who used to exchange pictures of their children back and forth via email. One of the women noticed something wrong in the other woman’s child’s eye, and wrote with concern. She asked her to please have her child saw by a professional, and she was genuinely concerned for her safety. The mom listened to her friend, took her baby to the doc, and lo and behold, the woman from across the pond was right. Her daughter had this really rare eye condition that could have cost her her life. here’s a quick link to the story I googled while I was blogging this entry:
So fast forward probably easily a year later, maybe even more. I’m hanging out on Facebook, and I’ve added some random people to help assist me in a couple games I play so I can have “Neighbors” or “Friends” and benefit my gameplay.
Having people on my friends list not only adds “friends” to my games, but allows me to have conversations and comment on everyone’s statuses. One such lady I came across asked about what she should do with her hair. I went to look thru her photo albums to see what her current and earlier hairstyles were. Instead of finding hairstyles, I was taken by her adorable little girl. I started thumbing thru all of the pictures of her smiling face, smiling as I got to see a glimpse into the magic that was her life. Until I came across one picture.
This is some sort of sick ass joke I swear. At first I guess maybe I was numb, but now I’m just I dunno…
It must have been ten years ago or so, my paternal grandmother found a lump in her breast. She didn’t really let anyone know about it, because she doesn’t like people fussing over her. I didn’t really realize what was going on until it was all over. She had to have a mastectomy, or I guess they called it a lumpectomy, and she lost her hair from chemo. They just did chemo as a preventative thing, so it wouldn’t come back, and assure they cleared all of the cancer from her body. She wore these cute turban head wrap things made from pretty silk scarves when she lost her hair. And fun little wool hats that were really pretty. All I really remember from the whole ordeal was when her hair grew back it was thinner… and it was the most I’d ever saw her wear hats before. Other than that, I draw a blank. She didn’t bother people with details because she didn’t want to worry people with her problems.
Cancer left it’s mark on her body though… She was always rail thin and never even had a bust. But now, she seemed thinner, and much more frail. Even though she was in remission, Cancer really seemed to slow her life down a lot more. Maybe it was just her getting older, but she wasn’t doing as many active outside activities anymore as she once did. The only evidence left over from her “outdoors days” was her heavily freckled skin, seemingly giving her permanently sun-kissed arms.
Remission.
My Grandma is insanely healthy. I remember she ordered this book to put my Grandpa on the “Sugar Busters Diet.” We used to sneak him tins of pecans for Christmas because he wasn’t allowed to eat them. She always has ate like a bird. Smaller portions than my 4yo eats. She has to be like 110lbs dripping wet. Probably thinner now.
A couple years ago, my Grandpa had some health issues, and he was worried about my grandma losing him, and what she’d do. She was already showing signs of Senility and he didn’t think she could run a house without him. (I remember one time, my uncle had made the remark to her that my mom and dad had ‘dust bunnies’ and some ‘crap’ in their computer, and that’s why it was running slow. She called my mom all worried, that if my mom would keep the cats from pooping inside the computer, they wouldn’t have so many technical difficulties with it. Like she’d never heard the term ‘dust bunnies’ before or something.) So he bit the bullet, and they moved to an assisted living program so when it was finally his time to go, she wouldn’t have to shoulder the burden of moving… losing her husband and the house she loved all at once. It made everyone in the family sad that they had to make such a move, but everyone understood.
Fast Forward to now.
My Aunt is in town for her high school reunion, and we were going to meet over at my grandma and grandpa’s house this morning. She asked me if I knew Grandma was in a wheel chair now, and I told her I didn’t, but I completely understood– she is in her 80s now. Old people need wheelchairs sometimes to get along. She explained to me that earlier this week she’d fallen out of bed and hurt her hip. It was hard for her to put weight on it because of the fall, so she was using a wheel chair temporarily to get around. No big deal.
Or so I thought.
10am rolls around, and I get a call from my aunt. They’ve canceled the visit because Grandma was in too much pain, and my other aunt was taking her to the ER to get some stronger pain medication to help her because what she was provided with wasn’t helping her and she was still in a lot of pain. My aunt from out of town assured me that after she received her new prescription for pain management, she’d prob be fine, and that we could reschedule our visit for this afternoon… after everything calmed down.
So, I waited for an update on what was going on. They were gonna Xray her hip to make sure she hadn’t cracked it and they missed it. And when they did the Xray they found something far more concerning than a broken hip. So they did a CT Scan. That provided a devastating blow that no one was expecting.
Grandma had cancer thru her whole body from the breast plate down. It had even spread to her bones, and the pain she was experiencing was probably not from the fall at all, but from the cancer that was ravaging her body. They planned on doing a MRI tomorrow to find out if it was in her brain as well. My whole family is spread from sea to shining sea, and they are all scurrying as fast as they can to come back to home to say their goodbyes.
I’m numb. And now I feel guilty.
Maybe if I didn’t hate Susan Komen so much, my grandma wouldn’t have been diagnosed with Breast Cancer, and be laying in her death bed as I type these words. How twisted is it that the one charity I despise supports the one cause that might be the death of someone in my family? Is this my Karma for all of my anti- Susan Komen rants? I can’t help but feel a little bit responsible.
My husband says that there’s no way I can be held responsible for something like this. But you can’t believe in Karma only when it’s good, right? If you believe in one side, you have to believe in the other. I feel like I just got bitchslapped across the face. Susan Komen set my ass straight. “If you don’t support us, you are against us… and you will pay.”
I know that doesn’t make any sense. But I really do feel a tiny bit responsible for her pain. And for my grandpa’s pain in having to watch the woman he’s been married to for over 60 years have to suffer an agonizing death as cancer rips thru her once healthy body, and wreaks havoc on anything in its path. That creates a lump in my throat that’s just a bit too hard to swallow.
We planned so many exciting things to do this summer. This was the first summer that Superdad actually took the kids for any extended amount of time (the longest he’s had them before is like 3 days). He had them from the 3rd- 12th in July, and planned to take them to Worlds of Fun. So, to make it fair for Lexie and River, we decided we’d go camping and try to hit up a water park semi close to our house. We’d never been there before, so it would be a new and fun adventure for all of us. And then, when the kids got back from their dad’s, then Lexie would have a story to tell them as well– and wouldn’t feel left out.
But the story she ended up having wasn’t exactly what I hoped.
Christopher sprained his foot on the 4th, and he was out of commission until the 8th, but then Lexie wasn’t feeling well, so we didn’t go anywhere then either. We were gonna go camping from the 5th-8th, and drive down to Christopher’s mom’s house to be there on the 9th. The 10th was a memorial ride for Christopher’s Sister. So we were going to go to her house to take part in that. After we went there, we were going to swing out to the little cemetery that my maternal grandma and grandpa are buried so that I could place roses on her grave for her birthday (the 15th). We were going to drive back home early on the 12th.
So since we missed our window of time to hit up the campsite and go to the waterpark, we drove straight to Christopher’s mom’s house to start our vacation out there. The kids were still excited because there’s a lake close to their house, and we’d promised we would take them swimming over the course of the next few days. They were delighted and over the moon excited to use the new floaties we just purchased
We got there, and were hanging out for awhile and decided we were going to take the kids swimming. Christopher’s mom said she would watch the baby, so we had a chance to take Lex and River for some one-on-one swim time. We had a blast, and it was a beautiful little pond, filled with magical dragonflies everywhere, and little bluegill that came up to kiss our toes and ankles. The kids were in heaven. We swam for a couple hours, and then came home.
Later that night, I went to the next town over to meet one of my cousins who was getting off work late. We chatted for about 30 or 45 mins and then decided to part ways. It was really nice chatting with him, and I had a really good time. Forgot how much I missed him. We drove back to where we were staying and prepared for a long day to start the next morning.
Just not the long day we were planning…
I started feeling pain in my side… like a stitch from running too long, or too much aerobic activity. I knew from previous experience that it was probably a gall bladder attack coming on. I just hoped it wouldn’t be too serious. I know from having an attack before how painful they can be.
(I mentioned in a previous post that I had a gallbladder attack on Easter when we went to visit my husband’s family. It happened very quickly, and was excruciatingly painful. I was too humiliated to cry, or scream in agony, so I just whimpered under my breath in the bathroom as I wiped the sweat from my brow and tried to calm down. Eventually, I went to lay on the couch in the back room, and somehow I managed to fall asleep for a brief moment until the attack was gone. After it was over, we drove back home and everything seemed normal.)
Within minutes of his mom leaving, and going to lay down because I was feeling miserable I had the worst gallbladder attack I’ve ever had since I started having them on Easter. I was having hot flashes, vomiting, and writhing in pain in bed. I couldn’t breathe, and I was crying inconsolably. Christopher took me to the ER, and they gave me some meds to help ease the pain and did a blood draw.
To make a long story short, I had to have my gallbladder removed because it was causing Pancreatitis and Hepatitis– which isn’t the hepatitis YOU are thinking of, it’s just a fancy name for swollen liver. Neither is good. And as the doctor said, you can live without your gallbladder, but you can’t live without your liver. So, it was time for surgery.
I was PETRIFIED.
I have a really rare enzyme deficiency called Pseudocholinesterase Deficiency. This is a really fancy name for someone who can’t break down anesthesia. The last surgery I had, they didn’t know I had this deficiency, and I woke up 6 hours after I was suppose to. I could hear everything the doctor and my mom were saying in my room, but I was paralyzed. I couldn’t move anything… trapped in my own body.
I was so afraid this would happen again.
That’s my biggest fear is to be trapped… paralyzed in my body and unable to raise my children because I’m a vegetable. Totally traumatizing. But I was also afraid of Liver Failure…
ER Dr: “We can call the surgeon in and have your surgery scheduled for the morning.”
Me: “Uhh… no. We will NOT be doing the surgery here,” I thought back to the fact that we had to ring the doorbell to get into the ER and that they had NO STAFF except a skeleton’s skeleton crew when we came in.
ER Dr: “I can assure you we have the best medical team available, and you will be in great hands.”
Me: “No. I’m not even FROM here. My kids are on the other end of the state. If there are complications, they won’t be able to come and see me. I’m not having the surgery here.”
ER Dr: “Well, I guess I can understand that. But I would advise against it.”
Me: “I’m not doing it here. I’ll go back to Lincoln and do it there. That way if something goes wrong, I will be where I need to be.”
ER Dr: “Well we can commission an ambulance to transport you back to Lincoln…”
Me: “I have NO DESIRE to ride in an ambulance for 3 1/2 hours. I will just drive back myself.”
ER Dr: “I’d advise against that. If you have anymore complications or need pain management, we won’t be able to help you if you are driving your own car.”
Me: “I’m sure I will be fine…”
You could tell he was completely annoyed with me, but I didn’t care. I wasn’t gonna have the surgery in a town with a smaller population than my family… no way in hell. It’s even a miracle they HAVE a hospital in a town that small. I wasn’t going to put my life in their hands. Just wasn’t gonna happen.
Christopher went and packed up the kids and all of the stuff we’d brought, and drove up to the hospital and picked me up. We drove straight back home, and tried to find a babysitter so that I could go to the hospital and have my gallbladder removed. About 30 mins on the road I started crying. Christopher asked me if it had came back, and I just shook my head. I missed my opportunity to lay flowers out on my grandma’s grave for her birthday. All because of my stupid gallbladder. I was really down on myself and really upset because I felt like I ruined everyone’s vacation.
(Finding a babysitter for 3 during my surgery kids proved more difficult than I thought it would. My husband’s stepmom said she was “busy” and couldn’t watch them for us, so we were sorta stuck. Everyone else we knew had plans because it was short notice. Finally, we called my BIL who took the kids for us without batting an eyelash. I was really impressed because we’ve never asked him to watch the kids for us- much less the baby. Later my BIL found out that the reason she was “busy” and wouldn’t watch the kids for us was because it was poker night, and she didn’t wanna bail. Nice family eh? Needless to say, we aren’t speaking to her since the surgery.)
I had a miserable time at the hospital. They couldn’t find my veins, I had a blowout that was really painful, and I was just downright miserable. They wouldn’t let me eat or drink anything because I was going to surgery. I was starving, uncomfortable, and blah. I was feeling better regarding my gallbladder, and for a few minutes I even entertained the idea of packing up and saying screw it, I don’t need the stupid surgery. My husband talked me out of it though. He stayed with me by my side almost the whole time I was in the hospital and he was amazing.
I was hysterical up until I entered the OR. Hysterically crying and shaking. The surgeon asked me if I needed a sedative to help me calm down, and I said yes. I don’t really recall anything after that. Except that it didn’t seem very long and I was awake again.
I WOKE UP. HOLY GOODNESS!!
My kids would have a mom after all. I was so overjoyed and relieved. I’d never been so happy to open my eyes and wake up. They let me leave the hospital a couple hours later. And that was it…
And that ended our gloriously fucked up vacation. Thank goodness it ended, who knows how much more disaster I could have taken.
I know that sounds awful. I really do. But I have a hate and loathing about Susan Komen that rages inside me each time I see a pink ribbon on the back of someone’s car, on a t-shirt, or even on a bucket of chicken.
A BUCKET OF CHICKEN?
Yes, a bucket of chicken. Christopher came home from work one day and told me that for Mother’s Day, to honor moms, KFC was going to be selling PINK BUCKETS for $1 extra donation to Susan Komen.
My blood began to boil. And he already knows how much I hate that charity. I know he doesn’t understand my extreme frustration regarding them… but I had so many things I felt were WRONG about KFC hocking pink buckets for charity.
1. Mother’s Day? Why not pick a charity about children? When did Mother’s Day make people think about boobs and not children? A woman can have a boobs and not have a child. Having boobs doesn’t mean you celebrate Mother’s Day. And if KFC is trying to say that all women celebrate mother’s day because they all have moms etc etc… if that’s the case… why not sell buckets of chicken for prostate cancer research as well?
2. I went to the KFC website, and though KFC requires a $1 donation to Susan Komen Foundation, only .50 of each bucket actually GOES to Susan Komen Foundation. I know there’s a printing cost involved, but when you are printing hundreds of thousands of buckets, there’s NO WAY it’s costing more than a couple cents extra each bucket to print them with a different graphic. I’m calling their bluff right now and screaming MARKETING PLOY to sell a few extra buckets over Mother’s Day. Who wouldn’t wanna give their mom a cute pink bucket of chicken, right?
Which brings up the real reason I hate Susan Komen. Pink Awareness Ribbons have become a joke, and a marketing ploy for so many companies. They cater to women because they change their product color to pink– pink toasters, pink vacuums, even a pink mouse for your computer– ALL IN THE NAME OF BREAST CANCER RESEARCH!! No one ever reads the fine print, that says they only donate $.02 of each sale to the Susan Komen Foundation… everyone just sees it and says, “Awww, it’s pink!!! AND I can support breast cancer research if I buy it. Oh, Honey… you know how much I love pink…” And voila!! Marketing Genius!
Does anyone actually really care if they do find a cure for Breast Cancer Research? Or are they just excited that they scored a pink Kitchenaid Mixer to match their adorable pink toaster?
Did pink really make this cause as big as it is today? If so, it seriously makes me want to vomit.
Everyone knows October is Breast Cancer Awareness month…. but hardly anyone knows that October 15th, is ALSO Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Day. Breast Cancer Awareness has become sexy, because of course the misogynist society we live in today wants to do everything they possibly can to protect the tatas… hearing people talk about dead babies is a downer. No one wants to do that, it’s too taboo to talk about. Even though almost every woman out there I know has either had the unfortunate experience of losing a baby, or knows someone very close to them who has lost a baby.
WHY DOESNT ANYONE KNOW OR CARE ABOUT OCTOBER 15th?
WHY DO BABIES DYING ONLY GRANT A DAY FOR AWARENESS, BUT BOOBS GET A WHOLE FREAKING MONTH?!?!?!
Breast Cancer is one of the most curable cancers out there. I know more people who have suffered from miscarriages, stillbirths, or sudden infant death for unknown cause than I’ve EVER met who had Breast Cancer. And the people I’ve heard of who had Breast Cancer, almost all of them have happy endings. I’m not trying to say that Sally Smith down the road who was diagnosed with Breast Cancer two years ago and fought a long and hard battle doesn’t deserve to have her story told… but so do the babies who never had a chance to learn to speak.
WHY IS IT OKAY TO ACCEPT THE DEATH OF A CHILD AND SCOOP IT UNDER THE RUG LIKE IT NEVER HAPPENED?!?!?!
I’m outraged… I loathe those little pink ribbons. Every time I see one, I think of the babies I’ve lost that I’ll never be able to hold. And I wonder how ANYONE could ever begin to justify the insignificance of their lives over perky boobs.
Hahaha, so apparently I can’t even keep it up for a week… muchless a month ROFL!! I’ve been really really really really really busy… does that count?
Easter was awesome. Kids had a great time. Company was great. Drive down wasn’t that bad either. Baby slept the whole time. It was when we got ready to leave that happened to be completely awful.
I had a gallbladder attack.
Later I found out that the yummy deviled eggs I ate were prob to blame. Not so yummy after all. When you are doubled over in pain, sweating like mad, trying desperately not to wail in agony in front of your inlaws… ya tend to second guess ANYTHING you might have just ate.
I’m NEVER eating deviled eggs AGAIN. EVER!
Anyway, it’s busy around here- I’ll try to blog sooner, I promise.
You think I can make a blog post for every day of the month in April? LOL We’ll see… but I plan on trying my damnedest
With Easter approaching rapidly, I decided to make 4 cakes tonight. At 130am. Yes. Yes, I’m crazy. Those 4 cakes when they come out of the oven and into the mayhem will be turned into 4 different flavors of cake balls. They are an obsession of mine now. I hope everyone likes them for Easter.
I’m trying to be excited for Easter, but I gotta say, I’m in a slump. Nothing seems really exciting to me as of late. Not even the fact that this is my itty bitty’s first Easter. I can’t believe she’s almost 1yo. Doesn’t seem possible. I wish I could freeze time sometimes.
Well, the 3rd cake’s almost done, and I need to go prep pans for my 4th. Wish me luck. And Happy Easter Everyone.
Since my mom waited until Dinner time the DAY BEFORE Thanksgiving to have my dad call and cancel, I didn’t have Reagan here to sit with the kids while I went and braved the crowd for a last minute Turkey and all of the fixins. We were forced to wait until Christopher got off work around 11pm. Who buys their turkey at MIDNIGHT the day before Thanksgiving??
Apparently we do.
I was so furious. Why couldn’t she have just told me while she was on the phone with me? My dad told me she was too chicken to call, and she didn’t bother to call on Thanksgiving either. Seems like something my mom would do though… have someone else do her dirty work. Not the first time, won’t be the last, I’m sure.
I was talking to Superdad when Christopher got home, so he decided to go to the store for me. We had a coupon to the local grocery store for a free 15 lb turkey. We’d make due with that, and hope it would be enough. He was grabbing potatoes and everything else we’d need. I was determined to make this work.
Christopher called me from the store:
“They don’t have any 15 lb turkeys left. I’m going to have to spend another $15 to get this turkey.”
“Well ask them if they can comp a percentage out or something, since they don’t have any of the turkeys available on the card.”
“Really??” He seemed very annoyed with me. I already knew he thought I was a cheapass, but the sigh cemented it.
“Yeah… I would… just ask them. What does it hurt? The worst they could say is no.”
Yeah… whatever…” I could tell he didn’t wanna ask.
BUT I’M SO GLAD HE DID!! They ended up comping a 23lb turkey for him COMPLETELY!! FREE TURKEY FOR US!! Yea Christopher. I was so proud LOL
I had to go to the store after he got back, because the store we had the coupon for was all out of pies, and they wanted like $5 a bag of potatoes. I told Christopher I’d go to another store, just come back so I could start defrosting the turkey.
The turkey went in the bath tub almost immediately, and I propped it under the spigot and ran a slow stream of cold water over it. I had to hurry and defrost this bird, but I wasn’t gonna poison my family with salmonella if I could help it LOL At that rate it was gonna take all night to thaw that damn bird. But I just didn’t feel comfortable with leaving it in the sink or on the counter on its own.
Off to the store.
I got pies for like $1.50 each, and taters for less than $3. I grabbed whipped cream, corn, some other necessities. We already had relish trays plated up and ready to go to the cabin, so I didn’t have to worry about those. Same with rolls and black olives. Maddie eats a whole can of black olives by herself. So I had 3 waiting at home LOL. I was shopping alone basically, since it was 1am the night before the big feast, and everyone else was no doubt at home sleeping- like NORMAL people should be.
I got home, and popped 2 pumpkin pies in the oven. It would be over an hour before they were done. Then after that was an apple pie. Another hour. Was about 4am when the pies were done. The turkey still wasn’t thawed out. I was kinda starting to panic.
I started making the stuffing, so it could be cooled by the time it was time to stuff the bird. And I was checking on the turkey every 15 or so minutes. Finally, around 6am the turkey was thawed, and I rinsed it, seasoned it, stuffed it, and put it in the oven. Was about 6:30am when I set the timer for an hour so I could start basting it.
The first time I had to baste it, I was surprised to find out that one of the kids had ripped a hole in the side of my baster, and it wasn’t suctioning out any of the drippings. I didn’t really know what to do, so I taped it up, and hoped that would work. Much to my surprise it did, and I was able to baste the turkey every half hour as planned.
But I was getting really tired…
At 10:30, I tried to wake Christopher up so he could start basting while I went and got some sleep. But he wasn’t having any of that. He looked at me with those sleepy eyes… and fell right back to sleep. I knew it was all me now, and who knows if I’d get to sleep today.
About and hour later, I went in and complained that he’d been sleeping forever, and could he PLEASE take over the turkey so I could go to sleep. I was completely frazzled, sleep deprived, and I’m sure he could tell I was annoyed. He had went to bed before the turkey was even defrosted, and I’d yet to shut my eyes for even 5 minutes.
So he got up to watch the turkey, and got the kids to peel the taters so we could make the mashed taters. 2 hours later he came in and woke me up that the taters were done and I could come work my magic. The turkey was also done. There was a miscommunication though, and he thought the timer meant it was supposed to stay in that long, and when the turkey timer popped up 45 mins early, he thought it was malfunctioning, so he left the turkey in almost an hour longer than it shoulda been.
Great. Dry Bird.
At least I could say it wasn’t my fault. I made the taters while I was half asleep, used too much sour cream in them, but they turned out yummy. I tried to make the gravy, but I was half asleep, and it turned out very runny LOL It was good enough though to drench the turkey in, as that’s the only way the white meat was even edible LOL!!
When we sat down to eat, everyone was supposed to go around the table and say what they were thankful for. I’d reminded the kids about this right when they woke up, but it seemed like no one actually put thought into what they were thankful for. I don’t know why I shoulda been surprised. It’s the same way almost every year. I continue it though, because I’d like them to hold some sort of traditions when they look back at our Thanksgivings.
It was a nice dinner at home. And I must say, it kicked ass for being planned less than 12 hours beforehand. I love my husband, and I love my kids. And this Thanksgiving proved that you don’t need anything else to bring love to your heart, and make you thankful for the things you have.
Right after I got off the phone with my dad, I scrambled. What were we going to do? The kids were all hyped up for a big Thanksgiving away from the house… and now that wasn’t going to happen. I recalled an earlier conversation with Maddie where she said SuperStepAunt and SuperUncle were coming in town for Thanksgiving. So I called Superdad to see if he would like them afterall. I was crying and a hot mess… I didn’t care if he heard me cry, I just wanted to make sure the kids had a good Thanksgiving, and were surrounded by people they love. They could get that here, but they get that every day here- I was trying to make the say special to them.
He told me he’d love to have them over, but there was some family drama that would probably prevent that from happening. I asked him what sort of drama was going on, and he said that his wife’s parents were upset with them and to make a long story short: They hate the kids and don’t want them around.
Apparently on Halloween, they all went together. Supermom’s daughter who is almost the same age as Maddie, doesn’t live with them and basically lives like an only child even though she has 4 siblings, was upset because she had to share ringing the doorbells, and didn’t get to ring all (or most) of them herself. I guess she had a miserable time and went home crying to her grandparents about how it wasn’t fair that they rang doorbells too. Talk about a selfish brat. But whatever…
So now, Superdad is waging a battle with his inlaws. They don’t want our kids around “their” granddaughter that they are raising because they don’t think Superdad has any parenting skills blah blah blah. Superdad is trying to get them to understand that raising an only child is completely different than raising 4 kiddos. And that sometimes 4 kids can mob up, and misbehave all at the same time, causing complete chaos. They think he’s an awful father, blah blah blah
…. wait…
I just caught myself defending his parenting capabilities HAHAHAHA…
sorry, back on track. Basically they told Superdad and Supermom that they wouldn’t come over, and bring Supermom’s daughter with them on Thanksgiving if Superdad’s kids were there. So Supermom asked him to keep them away, so that she could have her family together on Thanksgiving.
WAIT A MINUTE… BACK… THE… FUCK… UP?!?!?!?!?!?!
SHE told HIM to keep HIS kids away, so she could spend Thanksgiving with HER family?? What the fuck ever happened to marrying the whole package? And why the fuck did he not fucking freak the fuck out that she’s basically condemned his kids and told him she doesn’t want them around?? And on the holidays to boot? Wow, talk about a huge slap in the face. When he told me that I was completely outraged. How dare her. That right there would be grounds for divorce for me. Christopher would NEVER dare ask me to keep my kids away on the holidays.
So anyway, he goes on to tell me that “this holiday” might not be the best to have them, as tensions are already high, and he doesn’t want anymore drama. I asked him what he thought was gonna happen on Xmas, since this was just Thanksgiving and she was pitching a fit about that. He told me he already told her that if he kept the kids away on Thanksgiving, that it meant MOST DEFINITELY he was going to have them on Xmas, and that she couldn’t stop that from happening, blah blah blah… I have little faith though, and now I don’t want to send them over for ANY holiday if they are just going to be treated like second rate citizens who obviously don’t matter. *sigh*
ROFL!! I’ve been really really really really really busy… does that count?
