A lot has happened this last week, which is why I really haven’t been blogging. One day, Kealoha had a full-time job with insurance, and the next he didn’t. Don’t worry. It’s good. It’ll be great. He needed to get out of there and he was entirely justified in quitting (I even encouraged him), but let’s just say it’s been a week of trying to figure things out. We’re both now ‘transitioning’ to a new lifestyle where I’ll be freelancing full-time and Kealoha will also freelance until he finds a steady gig. We still have two mortgages and now both of us are without insurance, but…well, we’re still okay. It’s just a teeny bit of stress. Then add on the holidays, and voila! Stress flambéed.
It ended up being a small Thanksgiving. My mom, my friend K, my two kids, me and Kealoha. The morning started with me waking up at 5AM to start cooking. (Kids had to be at their dad’s by 2 so we had an early turkey day.) Louis (my 8 year old) was in a BAD temper. Black smoke followed him in every room. He was grumpy, and pinch-faced, and tantrum-throwing. I forced him outside but that didn’t help. Then we put him in his room with a plate of food and "Tom & Jerry" cartoons. 45 minutes later, he emerged like a peaceful butterfly. So. Mental note. Son has some blood sugar issues. When he’s hungry, he’s Mr. Hyde. Or is it Jeckle? Whatever. He’s the crazy mean one.
Kealoha relaxed with a rum and Coke and I poured a glass of wine. And then another. Even though it was only 11. I justified this by knowing that you’re supposed to have festive drinks on the holidays, especially after suffering through your kid’s meltdown(s).
We pulled the turkey out from the brine and got that bastard cooking. I made about twelve dishes, and I’ll spare you the pictures and recap. Suffice it to say: it was awesome. Julia Child would’ve been proud, especially when I dropped the turkey and just kept on going. (Not really. It never touched the floor.)
Mom came over. The kids call her Nana and she is now fully embracing the eccentric grandmother role. “Come here, Simone, and give Nana a big ass hug!” she said. Kealoha and I died laughing. Mom said, “What? I said give me your biggest hug. What’s wrong with that?”
There was a swirl of activity and chaos. Simone cried because she couldn’t find her favorite toy Puffy (the baster she carries around and sleeps with). She also cried at the grocery store with Kealoha because she found a new Puffy in the shape of a turkey, but he wouldn’t buy it for her. I guess his thought was a girl only needs one baster. She also cried when she asked him who was the prettiest girl and he said “Your mom”. Then he had to explain to her that she was the prettiest girl that he was not married to, and that he had to say I was the prettiest because otherwise he’d get in trouble. Simone cried harder.
Back to dinner. While putting dishes on the table, Louis helped himself to a ton of mashed potatoes, cranberry sauce and turkey. He said, “Hey, Ma! Come look at my White River Of Blood.”
Simone cried because I purchased a ½ pound of butter shaped like a turkey and every time someone wanted to butter their roll, they had to slice into the butter-turkey and she said “You’re killing it” so I sliced off the turkey’s head and said that it would no longer suffer.
Nana then said she was laughing so hard that tears ran down her leg.
I about choked.
We ate in about five minutes. Waited five more and then had pumpkin pie, cheesecake and chocolate roulade.
Five minutes after that, K and mom packed up leftovers, I feel asleep on the couch, slept for half an hour, and then we walked the kids to their dad’s. Kealoha and I walked home quietly, listening to the wind and the crunch of leaves. We retreated to the basement for Dexter, leftovers, and the movie “Drive”.
And I didn’t freak out or think about the future or anything all day long. I was too happy with the food, wine, and the quirky chaos of my family.
That's something to be thankful for.