well, it’s been an interesting holiday weekend.

Let’s re-cap, shall we?

Thursday was Turkey day! Yay! I had this weird depression hanging over me all day, and who knows why, because the night before, we had our first snow. It was beautiful, blanketing the ground, transforming the world into a winter wonderland. If I could write poetry, I’d be plaguing you with some very badly written, I’m sure, poem about it. I just love winter. I love the crisp cool air and the snuggly warm clothes that hugs you all day long when you wear them. Ahhhh. Oh yes. Me and winter could get married and live together for many a long day. Sorry James. I’m eloping with winter.

So anyway. I think the depression started when I woke up Thursday morning and James wasn’t in the bed next to me. Through cold and flu season, this often happens, he often abandons me if I’m snoring or if he can’t sleep or if he’s coughing or if I’m coughing, etc. It usually doesn’t bother me, but on Thanksgiving day, it did for some reason. It’s not just the absence of James next to me, he also takes his pillow, his other pillow, and his blanket. So I wake up and roll over and there’s this yawning abyss of nothing but bare cold sheets staring back at me and I feel utterly alone in the universe without even his pillow to grab and smell to remind me of him. The snow was also gone, like it hadn’t even happened. “HAHA,” it said, “JUST KIDDING!” *sniff*

Second thing to bring me down is the holiday itself. It’s a day dedicated to eating and family, and it was just us this year, which, don’t get me wrong, was nice. However, what is NOT nice, is killing yourself making yummy food just to hear someone say, “I don’t like that Mommy.” Over and over and over again. While you’re making it in the morning. While your putting it in the oven. When it is on his plate and you’ve told him repeatedly that he doesn’t have to eat it, and that one little taste won’t kill him.

I blame his picky father. It’s more convenient than any of the other choices.

Jocelyn, luckily, is at a beautiful stage where she will eat anything. And does, often. While I was cleaning the meat off the turkey later, she kept coming round for a bite every few minutes. She’s a turkey fiend (She also loves the rotisserie chicken from Costco).

So yeah. We should have done like a friend of mine did, and just ate Thanksgiving on the couch during nap time, because I think it would have been better for my morale. I am exaggerating, it isn’t like I killed myself cooking, in fact James was in charge of the turkey, and then we only had dressing and Company Carrots â„¢* as side dishes. While I love this stage of their development, sometimes I just can’t wait until they’re older so holidays like this won’t be just a waste of time.

*Company Carrots â„¢ is my family’s trademarked Thanksgiving day side dish. It’s almost more important than the turkey. My mom used to just tell us that however many carrots we peeled, that’s how much she’d make. Well, we would peel dozens, because we loooooved company carrots. It’s so yummy! Even James likes company carrots. No idea how it got that name though. It sounds like the dish is very old, like from Anne of Green Gables era, and the recipe would only be brought out when company came over for tea or something.

Friday I did some work at home, which was fun and no fun at the same time, and then Friday night I bullied James into going into DC with me with the kids and seeing The Polar Express on IMAX in 3D. It was pretty fun. We took the metro in, (“A TRAIN!!!! We’re in A TUNNEL!! Look, a TRAIN STATION!!” -Christmas will be hard to beat this year) and we walked around the JAM-PACKED Natural History Museum for a bit before the movie. Ethan was a wee bit afraid of the big dinosaur bones, and we didn’t go see the Hope Diamond, which I always like to go check out, and Jocelyn stayed in the stroller, which made maneuvering through the millions of people a bit on the impossible side, but the movie was the prime draw anyway. I’ve seen it with Ethan about three times in the theatre, and James hasn’t ever, so I did Jocelyn duty, and Ethan and his daddy watched the movie in 3D. Jocelyn did pretty well in the movie, with the help of graham crackers and bagels and jujifruits (fruit snacks that we have named “jujifruits”, not the actual candy) I had to take her out in the last half hour, which wasn’t bad, because she had tons of fun spinning around in the wide open lobby and then came running over to me to fall down. She also got some good jumping practice in.

James admitted that it was worth it, even though he was starting to feel miserably sick, just to see Ethan watching the movie which he adored. Grandma has already called me and “dibs” the Polar Express DVD as her Christmas present to Ethan. Kind of a bummer, because I’d have liked to have it in the house before Christmas and watch it up to the big day. So, along with the “METRO TRAIN MOMMY!” ride to and from DC, Friday night was fun, even though poor Jocelyn had to sit in the same diaper all that time because her mother forgot to bring one. Doh. Luckily, Mr. Poop stayed away.

However, Friday night, the real fireworks began. James spent his night in the kid’s bathroom, and I spent mine in our bathroom. He was sitting on the throne, I was kneeling in worship before it’s porcelain white-ness (wondering exactly when the last time I had cleaned in there was, actually). We decided later that it could only have been the turkey day leftovers that we’d had for lunch. I consulted with my mom, and we decided that since the dressing had egg in it, it was probably that. Yes, James and I were mildly food poisoned, and it will make me tread lightly in The Zone henceforth forever after! We weren’t as speedy in tupperwaring our leftovers after the Big Eating Event, and we will be from now on!

I think James got the worst of it (he was pooping all night, whereas I actually puked only once), but it wasn’t pleasant for anyone. Even the kids, especially Jocelyn who remained in her crib Saturday morning until 9am, and in her crib during nap time until 4pm. Luckily Ethan entertained her a bit during that time. Probably reassuring her that no, Mommy and Daddy aren’t dead, they’re just sleeping. Don’t worry, they’re breathing, I was watching. (Not really. Of course, I was asleep, so how would I know what those two talked about.) The rest of the day, they pretty much ran around our immovable tired, feverish bodies while we occasionally called out directives such as, “don’t pull your sister’s hair!” and “No hitting!” and “Your brother is not a punching bag!” and “TIME OUT!” before drifting into sick desolate non-caring again. As long as no one dies or is maimed, they’ll be fine, right?

So Saturday passed in a haze, and generally we felt better Sunday, but even today (Monday) I don’t quite feel 100 percent. The tummy is ok, but now a sore throat and general achey mopey yuckiness* have taken over. Luckily though, it’s liveable, which is good because I don’t get vacation time until I’ve worked at this company for 6 months. Yay.

So that is the Thanksgiving holiday weekend wrap up.

“I’m thankful for my hair.” – quote from Amy, at her eleventh Thanksgiving dinner when everyone had to say what they were thankful for. (I’m never going to live this down anyway, so I thought I’d let you, the Internet, not let me live it down either. Was that sentence grammatically correct? I don’t care anymore. Goodbye.)

* according to my spell checker, “yuckiness” isn’t a word. Isn’t that surpising? “Mopey” is OK, but yuckiness? NO! DOES NOT COMPUTE! “Achey” isn’t either, but that one, I get.

– amy dangles her participles over big, yawning cliffs while hollering, “STAY BACK! I’LL DROP IT!!”

PS – (as if there aren’t enough footnotes going on) My ice just sighed at me. It was interesting.