dressed to impress

My children do not own festive holiday clothing. There. I said it. I told you, the great internets, confessed to you really. Confession is good for the soul. Honesty is the best policy. Fake it 'til you make it. I feel better already.

Why did this come up? Well, I'm in the midst of getting ready for Christmas, which means my mind is racing 24/7 and I'm making list after list and I write a list for each day which is laughable really, but one must do something. Anyway, I decided in a moment of complete nostalgia that I would take the kids to get a photo with Santa. I do not need one, and I'm pretty sure that 2 out of the 3 will cry (which is the whole reason to get the photo taken anyway) but I want one this year. For the first 3 1/2 years of his life E. completely refused to even contemplate a Santa photo and we didn't push it. The last and only photo with Santa was two years ago when we happened to be at the mall and there was no line to sit on Santa's lap (unheard of!) and so we rushed up, plopped the kids on Santa's lap and there it was. Of course they were wearing whatever it was that they were wearing when we rushed out the door to go to the mall which was lame at best and crusty at worst.

So I was thinking about Santa and I thought I should plan this out a little better this year because I am not going to stand in line at the mall for an hour for a photo with Santa and then I thought If I plan it out then it has to look like I care and what should the children wear? at which point I thought There is nothing for the children to wear and I have hit an impasse at which point I stopped thinking. I was always dressed up as a child for these things, you see. To get the full nostalgia rush I think there must be tights and shiny shoes and something red and/or green. But we have none of that here.

I have tried. One year I bought E. a festive holiday sweater vest. He wore it once for about 3 hours and I could not look at him while he had it on. Everyone else's kids always look so cute all dressed up in Christmas gear, but my kids just look ... odd. Z. might be able to pull something off, but the other two? No. And forget K. and I. We do not have it in us.

So. There are no sweaters and there's no red and/or green and the glittery santa hats are elsewhere and there never had been shiny shoes and there probably will not ever be. I think matching scarves might be my best bet. Scarves or goggles of some sort?

I told you I wasn't any good at this. I did tell you, confessed really, and now I feel worse.

Thanksgiving? What Thanksgiving?

[I realize this angle is odd. And almost impossible to look at without feeling dizzy. What was I thinking? I was thinking I just cooked an entire Thanksgiving dinner for the first time ever and now I need to document that but all I really want to do is take a nap.]

I did it. I did it, but some things were cold. Most notably the orange ginger carrots. And I made far too many carrots. But it happened. Thanksgiving. It happened, it was traditional, and now it is over.

[Thank you for the gravy advice. I am more than a little tempted to try that vegemite gravy. The gravy pictured above is from a packet from the supermarket. Two packets, to be precise. It was bad. Bad Bad Bad. Must. Learn. How. To. Make. Edible. Gravy.]

Oh yeah. By the time I finished cooking, there was no time nor energy to make the table look nice. Must remember to do that the day before. Genius. Also, no one dressed for dinner. That is the bonus to eating with only one's own immediate family members. Pajamas.

Anyway, it's December and it's time to think about that other holiday.

five offbeat things

Assuming I am thankful for all of the usual things (K., kids, food/clothing/shelter, friends, therapy) (I am deeply, deeply thankful for these things), here are 5 random-ish things I am thankful for this year.

1. Brining.
Ok, just kidding. The turkey was indeed moist and flavorful with minimal work. But I'm still making my peace with the brining.

1. Stickers.
I am at the point in my life where it's the little things that make me happy. I like stickers. The kids like stickers. Stickers are inherently cheery.

2. The Zoo Membership.
We decided in an effort to save money we would buy a few select memberships and really use them. Use them we have. The kids love the zoo and beg to go almost every day. Z. says, "Face painting!" almost every day. R. signs and says "more" at every giraffe, rhino, and monkey.

3. Crayons and white glue.
It is a treat every single day when I open the backpacks after school to see what is inside. Some days there isn't anything. Other days the backpack is a treasure trove.

4. Seltzer.
We all need treats, and a treat that gives me a boost every single time, has no calories and isn't expensive? A very good treat indeed.

5. My white noise machine.
Sleep is precious. Sleep is difficult. Sleep makes the world go round, at least when there are young children in the house.

Happy day to you.

brining: the new basting

I didn't want to brine. I had decided firmly against brining before I even went online. I was attempting to recreate a reasonable facsimile of the Thanksgivings of my childhood which included a bird that was roasted, basted, and stuffed with stuffing. I had conceded the stuffing to the threats of salmonella and other bacterial nasties and I was not in the mood for more conceding.

Turns out it's tough to find a recipe that isn't all about the brining these days. I resisted as long as I could and with a flourish at the end gave into the peer pressure of soaking the bird overnight. Alton convinced me. The bird is swimming; I am dealing with it.

this is why we travel, part uno

We are not going away this year over Thanksgiving. Although we feel a wee bit sorry for ourselves, there is no need for sympathies to be extended. Everyone is cutting back, everyone is dealing with the economy, everyone has a pinch somewhere.

A few weeks ago E. said, "I want some turkey." This perplexed me because E. does not eat turkey as far as I know.
Me: What do you mean you want some turkey?
E.: I think lots of people eat turkey on Thanksgiving. At least some people. People do eat turkey for Thanksgiving, right?

My son the traditionalist. And from that brief 1.34 minute conversation a disaster of a Thanksgiving dinner has emerged, cooked solely by me.

Proposed menu:
shrimp cocktail
butternut squash bisque (it's not squashy enough, but it is finished)
turkey a la Alton Brown (this recipe has 1,919 comments!)
stuffing (this will hopefully be similar to the stuffing I am imagining)
mashed potatos (K. actually had to remind me of this one—I am pretty focused on stuffing)
rolls (from a can)
pumpkin bread (from a box)
green beans with bacon
brussels sprouts
cranberry sauce (from a can because I don't eat it and K. said the canned kind is fine)
pumpkin pie (from Whole Foods because I don't do pie crust and seriously there is no time for pie, but I am making real whipped cream)

Notice there is no gravy on this list. I know gravy is de rigueur, but I cannot for the life of me make decent gravy. I don't know why. I watch them whip it up on tv and it looks so easy but I cannot cannot cannot do it. I do not know what to do about the gravy to tell you the truth. I will probably attempt gravy since it is Thanksgiving and all, and I will probably botch it and we will have lumpy, nasty gravy, or no gravy at all if there are any tears involved, which there may well be.


Notes:
1. Fresh squeezed orange juice.
One of the recipes I am working on (and I have no idea which one, to tell you the truth) calls for fresh squeezed oj and being the slave to recipes that I am I spent some time this morning squeezing.

2. Stuffing.
I have not had great success with stuffing in the past. The stuffing of my childhood has none of the fancy stuff stuffing has recently acquired—no sausage, chestnuts, fruit of any sort. And no mushrooms. No, no, no! Just bread, celery, onions, and seasonings. That is what I'm going with because if I'm going to do it, I'm going to do it so that I'm happy. Day old bread from the supermarket is currently drying out. We shall see. I'm hopeful, but not very optimistic.

3. Butternut squash bisque.
Butternut squash anything is not part of my childhood memories of Thanksgiving. But it is one of the very, very few things that Z. will attempt to eat, so I made some soup from scratch for her today. Sadly the bisque isn't squashy enough for me, but since I spent a lot of time on it we are going with it. My sweet family WILL eat bland butternut squash bisque (K. says perhaps it's the recipe and not you...is there garlic in this?...I like it) on Thanksgiving and perhaps it will be become a time honored tradition for my kids. Or maybe next year we will be somewhere else eating Chinese food like I want to be.

4. Chili.
In the middle of preparations for Thanksgiving today I also had to make a pot of chili because the ground beef was trying to go south on me. I was not in the mood to make a pot of chili. I was in the mood to lie on the couch and whimper.

Next up: unwilllingly brining

scenes from a kindergarten craft project

I took my camera into the classroom, knowing that there probably would not be time to take any shots. There wasn't any time to take any shots. The shots from Kindergarten would be of the chaotic sort, full of lots of children pulling out the silver wires after I mentioned to be careful with them, missing sticky googly eyes, and lots and lots and lots of white glue. I am sad not to have some shots.

Child in E.'s class: Why are we making squirrels and not turkeys?
Me: Uh...[because that's what the craft directions said to make--squirrels, not turkeys.] Because it's fall and the squirrels are all busy outside finding the acorns to store for winter. And anyway these squirrels look quite a bit like turkeys.

KITT, I need you!

I will be spending my weekend preparing for my 15 minutes of fame making a craft with E.'s Kindergarten class on Monday. I gave E. 3 choices and he chose to make these cute guys. It's a good choice, although I am questioning the decision to make 3 of something with 22 kids. But I am going to do a lot of prep work, meaning they will basically be made before I get into school. I am worried about taking up too much time. Kindergarten is much more rigid and curriculum-based than I recall. The time seems important, and I and my project, not-curriculum-based, seem so expendable. Must. Not. Suck. Up. Too. Much. Precious. Kindergarten. Time. (I recall quite clearly playing kitchen, a LOT, in Kindergarten. From my recollections Kindergarten was mostly moving from one activity center to another, playing furiously. 37 years ago.)

This project involving paint and felt and glue and googly eyes will slosh some water into the empty well that is my creative life right now. I looked at how many photos I have taken since R. arrived home and realized that I have stomped down most creative endeavors due to lack of time, lack of organization, and lack of ability to form coherent thoughts. My creative juices have been juiced.

During this little wander in the desert I've turned to kits. I loved kits as a child. With a kit all of the supplies are presented in a neat little package, pre-cut and pre-determined. All of the decisions have been made, all of the shopping has been done. I ordered this fabulous dress as a kit on etsy. I opened it and was sewing within 5 minutes. No patterns! No pinning! No cutting. Just the juiciest bites, all for me. Kits, I love them. And I need them. Right now.

I have become so kit-crazy that I spent the past week assembling a kit for some of E.'s far-flung buddies. Our kit consists of print-outs of one of the rejected Kindergarten class crafts and lots of edible materials (almost 4 pounds of misc candies the scale at the post office informs me). It took a long time to find all of the various candies, and I just gave up on large gum drops (seriously, where ARE the large gum drops?? I cannot find them!) and pastel non-pareils and send the packages with replacements. (The perfectionistic part of me did not like this one bit, but I had been to 4 shops and I was done.) We will also be making the polar bears and the skiing people and whatever else we can dream up with toothpicks and candy. Sweet candy, get those creative juices sugared up. Winter is coming and we will be stuck in the house with nothing but our wits to get us through.