Thanksgiving Thoughts

It's a week and then Thanksgiving. 

The big meal. 

The beginning of the end.

Oh sorry, the end of November leads four short weeks into the end of December and while I can't say I "hate" the end of December, I can say it's exhausting and I'm not happy, jump up and down excited about the Christmas season.  There's just a lot going on but I digress.

Thanksgiving!

For a lot of people, it's the food that matters (pigging out!) and while I take great joy in creating appetizing dishes along with making traditional food that we only have a few times a year, the food is really just a vehicle for much more.

I grew up with Holiday meals being extremely important.  You see, the entire experience was filled with family bonding.  There was the baking of bread the day before.  We helped my mom in the kitchen, cutting, stirring, kneading, braiding and shaping. We had carrot cake, sweet bread and a loaf of regular bread as well.

While we worked there was talking and laughing.  My dad would walk in and joke and laugh while we worked but wisely chose to let my mom be in charge.  Not because he had some antiquated idea that woman should be in the kitchen, but because he knew my mother was in a different culinary league, not that he'd ever admit that out loud.

One of the funniest moments ever, was the first year that my mom had to work the night before Thanksgiving.  My dad entrusted me with quite a bit, bread, stuffing, gravy, potatoes but he did not trust me with the turkey.  No matter what I said, he wouldn't allow me to prep the bird.  My mom had a couple of a little racks that she placed under the bird, so the drippings would fall into the pan and the bird wasn't sitting directly in the pan.  I informed my dad how mom did it and he proceeded to do it his own way (thank you very much).

So into the pan without the racks went the turkey.  Dad approved the stuffing and proceeded to stuff the bird, put 'er in the oven and left me to do the rest of dinner.  The house filled with mouth watering aromas.  The table was set, with style.  Holidays were a time for the best, cloth napkins, water goblets for everyone.  A lovely lace tablecloth under it all, making our modest dining room feel like a fancy restaurant. Classical music in the background and my dad's wine bottle set out, properly chilled and ready for dinner, it all set the mood.

It was time to carve the turkey. 

Except, when dad took the two serving forks and lifted the bird out of the roasting pan, the roasting pan went up with the bird.  Dad, preferring to not panic, tried to pry the bird out of the pan. 

That didn't work either and dad seemed to not notice the bemused look on my mother's face.  After several minutes, dad took matters into his own hands.  While sending one of the boys into the basement for a mallet,  dad flipped the broiling pan, bird and all, upside down.  I think we all held our breath as the bird was flipped, waiting to see if gravity would do what Dad could not.

Nope, bird flipped, still adhered to the pan.  So the mallet was brought into play and

BAM BAM BAM BAM BAM BAM

a mere half a dozen whaps later, off came the broiling pan and the bird, laid out on the serving platter, stuffing completely visible in the center as meat and bones, having completely fallen apart, laid there, like some morbid holiday form of art.

There was no carving of the turkey that year. It was already in bite size pieces.

While that kind of belly laughing didn't happen every year, there was still the visiting during the meal.  We would sometimes sit there for a couple of hours, just talking to each other.  There was no rushing to leave the table, hurrying to answer the phone, we were a family and dang it, we were going to talk to each other.  The funny thing, it was something we enjoyed.  I remember watching my dad swirl his wine in his glass, classical music in the background as we discussed everything and anything. 

There was also a sense of unity as we cleaned up.  Now don't get me wrong, as kids, we all grumbled, but as we set into the work, there was a sense of accomplishment as the disaster we created was divided and conquered.  Piles of dishes disappeared, all hand washed.  Dad's wine glass and the goblets from dinner were carefully washed, dried and put away.  The pots and pans scrubbed, all was put away again.  Food was saved to snack on for days afterwards and it was all done together. 

For me, that is what is magical about Holiday dinners.  Thanksgiving, Christmas day, Easter Sunday, all are an opportunity to connect to each other.  Having my mom here really helps as well, Christmas day and Easter Sunday are always at her house.  Pieces of my childhood are brought forth as cloth napkins are set at the table and talking plays a major roll during our meal.  It's not the marathon talk sessions of my youth but for my husband who use to eat and run, it's a step in the right direction towards the family unity I remember as a child.

I hope my children appreciate the chance to be together as much as I do.

Angels Among Us

An alternate title would be, kind people still exist or the stranger that helped me out but those don't have the same pizazz as the title "Angels Among Us".  So I'll go with my first thought.

Now the first question might be, what kind of bind was I in and how did I get into that bind?   Simple, I let Ean unlock the suburban and he clicked the latch to unlock all the doors, accidentally locked the open door, tossed my keys onto my seat and slammed the door shut so he could go in the back door.  He's opened the door tons of times and usually climbs in, plays with the knobs, adjust my mirrors so I can see sky instead of the lanes behind me and then climbs in back.

No, this time he decided to be responsible, grown up even and was going to use the rear door to get into the back.  Seriously, I can't fault him for that. 

The girls were at home alone, not a big worry, they're old enough.  The worst that could happen was Kate forgetting to clean out the cat's litter box.

The twins were a different story, see they are now in the after school program Monday through Thursday from the end of school until 5:00pm.  There's a fifteen minute window for pick-ups, so I had until 5:15pm or bad things would happen. 

I don't remember exactly what those bad things are, even though I did sign a form saying I understood all those bad things.  In general, I figure it's best to just avoid finding out, so since Ean's counseling appointment ends at 5:00pm, I was in a bit of a hurry.

So, in slow motion, I see Ean, click the lock on the car door.  I look through the window and see Ean toss my keys into the front seat and then notice his door is actually locked. 

Uh Oh.

SLAM GOES THE DOOR.

Now, while I was in the waiting room, I had a lovely conversation with a woman, I'd never actually met but I knew her daughter.  Her daughter is autistic and they attend the same Ward as my mother.  Recognizing the little girl, I introduced myself, let her know Scott is my brother and we had a wonderful conversation connecting on all kinds of levels. 

When I came back in, she let me use her phone.  You know, because I still don't have a cell phone, but that's another topic.  And then she looked at me, as I confirmed with my husband that the twins needed to be picked up right now, not in 20 minutes (you know, after 5:15 when BAD things happen) and this acquaintance with great friend potential offered to give me a lift.

She drove us to the school and then drove us home, bless her heart she was more then willing to drive me back to our car, but I knew I could get it later with Kent. 

I really need to bake her something and have my mom deliver it to her, for me. 

Of course the girls were fine, completely oblivious to my troubles and yeah, someone forgot to clean her litter box. 

Poor kitty cat.

Oh My, How SWEET!

Or not.

So at church, David was drawing a picture.  He went into great detail, drawing people, drawing a temple, and writing lots of words on it.  Stuff like

I love followed by a list of names.  Some of which he couldn't remember and we couldn't read by the time we came home. 

I love the temple.

I love church.

Tons of love on that paper.  Of course it was a long meeting.  So he had lots of time with one sheet of paper and he put a lot of thought into it.  So when the meeting was over, he ran down the length of the pew, excitedly telling us about his picture.

"Look, look, the bad guys came"

Oh, that's who the new guys in masks next to the temple are.

"And they had DYNAMITE"

Uh oh.....

"AND IT BLEW EVERYTHING UP!!!!!"  

Did I mention it was a long meeting? 

It was seriously better then the survey he was taking during the meeting to find out who liked his picture.  Which was fine on our pew, but when he started yelling two pews back to the Sisters he knows from Primary, I had to put a stop to it.  I will say this.

He takes pride in his work, even when he changes his entire theme, in less then an hour.

Interesting Discussion with my Teenager

In Utah and in Idaho, kids can take a period out of their high school day for an off campus religious course called release time seminary.  My oldest has loved it so far and the kids take a very active part of the course including doing what is called a "devotional" which is a spiritual message to share with the class.

The teenager was telling me about a recent devotional which stresses the importance of being an individual and not letting other people change who you are.  Then she looked at me and asked "Why are you and dad always trying to change me?"

Whoa.

Well that opened a door for some serious dialog. 

Here's a beautiful, smart teenager that doesn't understand social skills.  It was a light bulb moment for me in understanding her confusion on what we, as her parents see as valuable help.  So I let her know that we weren't trying to change who she really is, but sometimes in some situations, you need to act a certain way and that's what we're trying to help her with.

We talked a bit and I strongly suspect that we'll be having this conversation again because it is hard to understand.  I mean, when you truly don't have that innate sense of social cues, when you laugh to hard in the wrong places, when it's been a struggle to even understand how to take turns in a conversation and how to stay on topic, how do you understand something so abstract?

She has come so far and I don't think she even realizes how far she's come.  I think that might be part of the problem in understanding this.  Not knowing how socially awkward she's been, she doesn't have anything to compare herself too.

I do need to make sure we keep a balance.  I need to let her know when she's done something especially well just as much as I need to correct behavior that is socially unacceptable.

Social skills are so hard to define too.  Oh sure you can explain what people do and don't do but you can't explain why things are a certain way.  I wonder if that is part of our misunderstanding today.   Of course this still doesn't help me in explaining this all to my daughter.

So in true fashion, I cut to the chase.  I reminded her that I like to hang around in my underwear, but I certainly don't go to the library like that.

I think it did the trick.