This Turkey Won't Cook Itself.

Hello, my friends!

I am still here, but I am consumed with all things turkey related since I am hosting the big meal. I've been cleaning and prepping whatever food I can before the big day.

I'm lucky that my brother enjoys brining and cooking the turkey, since I find that the most tedious part of the meal preparation. At least he says he enjoys it and he offers to do it every year, so I am not about to argue.

The kids are home on their Thanksgiving vacation now, and so whatever I've managed to clean ahead of time will now be utterly destroyed. I have banished them to the basement until tomorrow in the hopes that at least the guest bathroom and the living room carpet will remain clean.

(As banishment goes, it's a pretty good deal. The basement is a fully finished playroom. But there's no bathroom or snacks down there, so they can identify with the pilgrims in their time of hardship.)

I also had to run out and buy Sally a winter coat. I was sure she had one in our bin of assorted coats, but it turns out I am missing her size. I have one that's too small and one that's way too big, but not one just right. She's my Goldilocks of winter coats.

I managed to squeeze a run to the store in while I still just had Sally, Bun, and Mopsy at home. We were gone for approximately forty minutes, but I still returned feeling like I had run a marathon.

I'd like to know how many calories I burn taking three small children shopping. I've got to have earned at least a piece of pie, right? Seriously, all I do is climb around lifting and buckling people.

I know there are many things I will miss as the children get older, but I have yet to experience any kind of nostalgia for buckling the older kids into car seats. In fact, I've done a little happy dance on the day that each child has been able to move from being buckled to buckling themselves.

Anyway, that's neither here nor there. It's just a season. A back-breaking, sweaty season.

What I'm sure you really want to know is that Sally managed to pick the coat that I liked the very least from racks and racks of coats. It's a cotton candy pink and lime green confection in the puffiest of puffy styles. She looks like Antarctic Expedition Barbie, which is exactly why she picked it, I'm sure.

When Francie was little, I would never have let her get it. I would have used my parental veto and chosen something else. Now I just don't have enough time to object. It's a warm coat, it was cheap, and Sally will wear it. And it was picked before any other children lost their composure. Done and done.

Poor Francie, I'm amazed she can make a decision for herself at all.

Oh well, you live and learn and become too exhausted to argue just like every other mother in the history of mothering.

Now I have to stop rambling and force the children to stop watching "A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving" for the fourth time this morning. Then I have to figure out something for lunch, since none of the food in the fridge is supposed to be eaten today.

Can't the kids just wait to eat tomorrow? Then they'd really feel for the pilgrims.

Happy Prep Day, my friends!