Thanksgiving by the Numbers

Thanksgiving is a time when we count our blessings.  In keeping with tradition, here is a compilation of blessings counted this Thanksgiving:

TEN—at least the number of gallons of gas it took to drive our rickety van down to my sister’s house for Thanksgiving dinner so that we could visit with the twins, the triplets, the in-law’s, the in-law’s new baby, the grandparents, and great-grandma, of course.  We made it without any breakdown incidents or popped hoses….other than a few pit stops for children with whoozy stomachs and one allergic reaction in my youngest son who broke out in hives after drinking five juice boxes (no, I did not give him those!). 

NINE—number of healthy friends who, after commiserating that we all overate several times this weekend, decide to motivate ourselves to waddle out our front doors, groaning, to meet, run four difficult miles, and create our own watered-down Cross Fit intervals at one mile stops.  Did we overdo it?  You betcha.  I am waddling still, but in pain now!

EIGHT (dollars)—overrated cost of a bunch of bittersweet that I have entwined beautifully, I think, yet guiltily, around my chandelier as my husband reminds me every time we drive anywhere, “there’s some bittersweet you could have cut for free.  Oh, and there’s more bittersweet…” and for which, it is true, I have been torn between 1) buying a whole other bunch just to spite my husband and 2) plotting how to cut bittersweet off of branches along the road, without being caught and arrested for trespassing.  I have resolved that I can do neither and that I am just plain a “wuss”, but at least I am a non-lawbreaking “wuss”.  The bittersweet, though expensive, looks lovely.  I plan on keeping it up all the way through the holidays because it is so beautiful… and maybe just for the principle of it…and perhaps a little bit to drive my husband the teensiest bit crazy.   

Maybe She'll Forget By Then...

So last weekend, my husband took me out for my birthday. That was exactly what I wanted—to just go out together as a couple, and another time as a family (which we'd already done earlier in the month), to do something special together. Due to the Great Recession, we don't go out much at all.  He had found cheap tickets to a local musical and decided to surprise me with them. That was the best gift right there!  He even arranged for his mother to watch our kids--at her place. His mother is a little round Italian woman with a very eccentric personality, much like most of my husband's large, very extended family on his mother's side (and when I mean very extended, I mean we see third and fourth cousins in his family fairly regularly).

Does This Sound Familiar to You?

        So this is the kind of busy for which I can soooo empathize and it's the catalyst for the dream I had the other day.  Does this kind of busy sound familiar to anyone else but me?  Early last week, I walked my youngest son down to the bus stop at the corner. My neighbor (who shall forever remain unnamed) and her children come running out of their house as the bus pulls up to the stop. My neighbor's hair is wet. She's frantic, but laughing. Most days, she is completely dressed and ready for work by this time. I know something is wrong.