Holidays stress me out. Even Thanksgiving, which I love. Usually we have to leave home to go to a relative's house for dinner. Going anywhere with four kids is a hassle, let alone trying to bring food anywhere. I always offer to bring plenty, due to the many mouths I bring with me. Plus, when you have a reputation as a decent cook, one tends to get a wee bit vain about food. Anyway, Thanksgiving always sneaks up on me. Either the night before I find out that I'm missing some key ingredient or else I never really make my mind up about what I'm cooking until the morning of. Maybe I perform better under a little pressure, I don't know. This year I was in charge of bringing the nebullus "sweet potato dish". I didn't decide which direction I was going with the sweet tubers until one hour before our scheduled departure. What resulted was actually a really good dish.
Sometimes things work out, sometimes they don't. Actually, things always work out, but I'm always afraid they won't. Will my kids look like slobs because I didn't have time to give them haircuts and I didn't pick out Thanksgivingy clothes? Will anyone eat my food? Will someone say something snippy to me or about my kids/clothes/food? Is everyone this damn insecure? The answer to most of these questions is no, and if the answer happened to be yes would it really be that big a deal? I can already feel the nerves gearing up for Christmas. What's a narcissistic nut-job to do? Get over myself, that's what. I need to focus on the big picture here. My husband is an amazing man, I am a mother of four terrific, healthy sons. We have a house that is warm and comfortable. I have a job that I absolutely love. Who cares about anything else this holiday season.
Happy Thanksgiving, dear readers. And hey, if you're out there, leave a comment. I'd love to hear from you.