Thanksgiving, feh!

I have never been a fan of Thanksgiving.

Never.

Of all the biggies (Christmas, Easter, Thanksgiving, Mother's Day, Father's Day, my birthday), I think Thanksgiving is probably my least favorite holiday.  And I think I have some pretty good reasons, too.

Please allow me to elaborate.  (ha, this is my blog - just try and stop me!)

The food
I like turkey, but let's be honest.  Pretty much every turkey cooked on Thanksgiving is going to be dry and overcooked.  And I hate brown gravy.  So for my entire life I've been stuck swallowing dry, pasty turkey.  In recent years, I've used Chardonnay to wash it down.  Helps on so many levels.

And I do not like stuffing.  I have some major texture issues with food, and wet bread is quite possibly the most flagrant offender in this category.  As a kid, my aunt (who makes some incredibly delicious food) would serve Stove Top stuffing, which is the equivalent of a loaf of bread with a can of chicken broth poured on top and left to its own devices for a couple of days.  Ew, I just threw up in my mouth thinking about that.  Luckily for me I was recently diagnosed with a wheat allergy, giving me a legitimate medical reason to refuse to eat stuffing.

The veggie side dishes are okay, as long as they're not overcooked.  I'm a big fan of crunchy, steamed veggies, but sadly, most Thanksgiving sides are limp and mushy.  I empathize - I know how tough it is to simultaneously prepare a turkey, stuffing, potatoes, vegetables, and rolls for a small army - but I still don't like eating mushy vegetables.

Growing up, we had dinner with my father's family.  They're Italian, so in addition to the turkey, we also had a lasagna.  I don't like pot cheese (1. that's ricotta for you non-NY/NJ Italians; 2. yes, I know that I am high maintenance, thanks for pointing that out, though).  My method of eating lasagna is rather unconventional - I wrap one noodle around my fork and eat it, scrape off the pot cheese, repeat until pasta is finished.  Without fail, every year my aunt or grandmother would look at the mound on my plate in horror and exclaim, "You don't like pot cheese?!?"

Dessert
As tradition dictates, we always had pumpkin pie for dessert at my aunt's house.  Here's a shocker - I do not like pumpkin pie.  After I had graduated college and was living on my own, I finally figured out that if I wanted a dessert that was not pumpkin pie, I had to bring it with me.  So I started my own tradition - I came with at least one batch of slice and bake chocolate chip cookies.

Other traditions
Before it became a Thing, my cousins and I used to go into New York City to watch the balloons for the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Pareade get blown up.  Afterward, we'd head back to NJ and I would spend the night at my aunt's house.  The next day, since I was always awake before my (all male) cousins, my aunt would tell me that, as the girl, I had to set the table (I shit you not; this actually happened.  And I was actually stupid enough not only to set the table, but to stay there more than once, until my cousin-in-law decided that I should stay with her and my cousin and let someone else have the honor).

And today?
Now we spend Thanksgiving at my in-laws' home.  My mother-in-law makes a very nice dinner that I enjoy, but it's obvious that my kids aren't exactly enamored with the food.  I guess the apple doesn't fall far from the tree, so I always bring a special dessert for them.

After the table has been cleared, the leftovers bundled up, and we head home, then the craziness begins:  the Countdown to Christmas!  Now there's a holiday that I love...

OMG - Fruit Flies!

Much to my dismay, my home is under attack.

By fruit flies.

Now hold on, I can hear you thinking to yourself, it's November and we've already had morning frost; how on earth could you possibly have a fruit fly infestation?

First of all, I am so with you on that.  I have been wondering the same blasted thing, usually as I attempt to smash the little buggers with a tissue.

Second, I have no idea.

Well, okay.  Maybe I have some idea...

Think about it:  they're fruit flies.  They obviously eat fruit, right?  And I buy fruit every week from the grocery store, so it stands to reason that the most likely vehicle for bringing fruit flies into our home is the fruit that I buy from the grocery store, right?

So... we've established that the fruit flies currently making themselves at home in my bathroom most likely hitched a ride to our house on a bag of oranges imported from somewhere in Central America.

But that doesn't explain two things:

1. How they got into the upstairs bathroom, and
2. How they have survived and proliferated

Come to think of it, if these fruit flies were indeed transported by oranges that were picked in, I don't know, California, Florida, or maybe Central America, they're probably accustomed to a warm, humid environment.  Hmm, a warm, humid environment...  that sounds kinda like a typical description of a bathroom, don't you think?  So, that's one mystery solved.  

Last night I decided that I'd had enough of playing whack-a-bug on the bathroom mirror.  I was going hardcore:  some fruit flies were gonna die.  Got out some styrofoam cups and filled them with some red wine vinegar and a squirt of liquid soap.  Added some fast flowing tap water and made lots of bubbles (fruit flies are kinda stupid, and are powerless to the lure of bubbles).  Dropped in a small piece of cut apple, just to make my cocktail extra tasty for the little buggers.  Set them on the bathroom counter and went to bed.

Amazingly, and disgustingly, in the morning there were about three dozen dead fruit flies floating in the cups.  Success!

Yeah.  Except, not really.

For every fruit fly that got sucked into the bubbles, there was another one hanging out on the mirror.  WTF?  Was I not Goddess of the Flies?  Did I not just collapse the fruit fly empire?  Do these freaking things multiply faster than rabbits?  How the fuck hell am I supposed to get rid of these things?  

Seriously...  help!

On writing...

There's nothing pressing about which I'm inspired to write, so I am using NaBloPoMo's daily prompt:

When you are writing, do you prefer to use a pen or a computer?

Short answer:
Pen vs. computer depends on what I'm writing.

Long, excessively wordy answer:
If I'm writing my weekly grocery list, I like to hand-write a list.  However, if I plan to grab a few things from Target or Trader Joe's, I will create a list on Cosi (an iPhone app that has a calendar, to do lists, and shopping lists, among others).  Over the weekend, I like to update my weekly calendar by hand.  As I go about my week, though, I do enter information on my calendar on Cosi.

If I am really upset and need to brain dump and I don't have the patience to wait for my laptop to boot up, I'll scribble my thoughts into a journal.  This doesn't happen to often, and it usually happens when I'm in such a state that merely looking at my husband makes me want to scream.

In recent years I have found that I can write reasonably well using a computer.  I first discovered this in graduate school.  I learned that I could quickly bang out my thoughts into an outline and convert it to prose with minimal effort.  From following this process many times during my studies and afterward, my writing process has been rewired (so to speak) so that it is actually easier for me to organize my thoughts using a computer rather than a pen.

If I write a blog post, I always use my computer.  I've lost many good ideas because I refuse to jot them down somewhere or type in a note on my iPhone, but it's just how I've always done it.  Plus, I like being able to preview my posts before I publish them.

Conclusion:
There's a time and a place for a pen as there is a time and a place for a computer.

Author's Note:
While I appreciate prompts to help get the creative juices flowing, I do not like today's blog post.  Blech.  Boring.  Maybe I'm just in a crappy mood, but I would have preferred a little more personality. Yeah, that's all on me, but just how exciting can writing about your preferred implement get?  (note to self:  drink wine tomorrow night before blogging)

Desperately Seeking Balance

I've been at my current job, Mom, for about seven and a half years.  It's the most difficult position I've ever held.  

Don't get me wrong, I adore my boys and wouldn't trade them for anything, but as a full time, stay-at-home Mom (who is married to a man whose job requires frequent late nights), you don't get sick time, and personal time is precious and in desperately short supply.  

If I go out to grab dinner with some friends, or play Bunco, or -gasp!- see a movie, it's a busy month for me.  

It makes me feel like such a total loser when I check Facebook and read the status updates of other moms I know - moms who also have young kids - about how much fun last night was, or see their pictures of them out somewhere, together, having a great time.  First, um, thanks for not inviting me, guys.  Second, thanks for posting status updates like "those watermelon margaritas last night were SO yummy!" when you know that I will see it.

That evvvvvvvvverybody else is hanging out but me probably wouldn't bother me nearly as much as it does if I didn't spend nearly every waking moment with at least one of my kids.  

But how to fix that?  

Do I get a full time job, if I can find one, so I can spend my take-home pay on day care?  Do I become a first year teacher in an urban school and adjust to a new career in a highly challenging environment with students who may not be adequately prepared to learn that requires me to bring work home and spend my paycheck on supplies, on top of paying for day care?  

I would love to find a part time job, but outside of retail, what part time jobs exist?  

I enjoy writing, but I've never done it for pay.  How does one "break into" writing at the age of forty?  (hint, hint)  And if I do find a paid writing job, will it be enough to make it worth my while?  Will I be able to meet deadlines while also being there for my kids when they need me to help them with their homework, shuttle them to activities, and remain active in the PTA?

I need balance.  And I don't know how to find it.  

Does anybody have any suggestions?

One More For the Loss Column

Two days ago, I had this great idea.  Well, actually, it was my former roommate's idea, and I thought it would be cool if I did it, too.  I was going to participate in NaNoWriMo.  That's National Novel Writing Month, where gobs of people write a novel during the month of November and share their works (and encouragement) online.  The goal is to write a work of 50,000 words, which works out to 1,667 words a day.

It's now November 2, and I haven't written a damn thing.  Not a single word.

Oh, and I've never been big on writing fiction.  In fact, aside from short stories that I had to write when I was a freshman in high school, I have never written a substantial work of fiction.  The most creative writing I've done is maybe five paragraphs, and it is dreadfully bad.  Did I mention that I'm not big on writing fiction?

Needless to say, my inner demons are having a field day.  Procrastination, fear, perfectionism, all duking it out, and all kicking some major ass, since this blog post is the most writing I've done in weeks.

On the upside, I discovered that there's another event called NaBloPoMo.  Shockingly, it has nothing to do with Blow Pops.  (Admit it - like me, you also thought that this had something to do with "creative" uses for Blow Pops.)  It's National Blog Posting Month.  The goal is to post to your blog every day during November.  Thirty blog posts?  Of a length of my choosing?  And there are prompts if I get stuck?  Instead of a 50,000 word novel?  I am so there.

NaNoWriMo can NaNoBlo me.

Kidding.  But seriously, NaBloPoMo is much, MUCH more up my alley.

Bless you, NaBloPoMo.  You have saved me from feeling like a complete and total slacker and failure.  I can do this.  I can do this.

Here I go...

What A Week, or Boy Am I Tired!

The two older boys finally started school this week.  I say finally because J was supposed to start on August 30th, but this bitch Hurricane Irene had other plans.  Apparently she felt that we moms didn't have enough time with our OD'd-on-summer brood and dumped a whole mess of rain and tree limbs on the town, causing The Powers That Be to delay the start of school for a week.  

Yes, things could have been a LOT worse - we didn't lose power at all and our biggest inconvenience was the loss of TV, phone, and internet service for four days (I know - no internet for four days - I mean, what the hell, right?).  But to find out the day before we were supposed to regain our freedom send our kids back to school that nope, it's not gonna happen for another week was, as a neighbor said, like losing a best friend.  Especially when the neighborhood swimming pools were closed (the lifeguards all went back to college), the library was closed (transformer powering the building and its servers blew), and the ground everywhere was waterlogged.  Honestly, there really is a limit to togetherness.  We know, we've been there.

But that's all ancient history now.

Tuesday was J's first day of school.  He loves his teacher.  He might even have a little crush on her, which is probably a good thing.  He came home and told me more about Mrs. R than he has about anything school related, ever.  I'm so excited for him.  

Did a bunch of other stuff during the week that I will not detail in this blog.  Trust me, it's not all that interesting.  Let's just say that I stayed up later than I should every night, sometimes to read (The Power of Six by Pittacus Lore, the followup to I Am Number Four), some nights for school-related stuff (Board of Ed meeting, Back to School night).

By Friday night I could barely keep my eyes open.  So what do I do?  Go to bed, and stay up until nearly midnight reading.  At least the boys let me sleep until about 9am on Saturday, something I haven't done since before J was born.

I was completely wiped out by a week of school- and home-related tasks.  And I never got the chance to vacuum.  Honestly, how do working moms balance everything?  Especially moms of large families.  I know a woman - a dynamo - who teaches full-time and has five children.  Can you imagine?  She must be the most organized person ever.  I'm even more tired just thinking about what her week was like.

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Ten years later...  TC, I wish I got to meet you.  You are a hero, and you are still very much loved and missed  by many.

"Generators Humming"

Have you ever read a book, or maybe a news article, where the author is describing some place after a major weather event, and invariably the phrase "generators humming" or some variation thereof, is used?

Yeah, well that's a total crock.

Generators do not hum.  They are loud.  Really, freaking loud.

Today is Wednesday, four days after Hurricane Irene passed through my area, and my neighbor diagonally behind me is running a generator the size of a home air conditioning unit.  The thing has been running nonstop since Sunday, and of course I completely understand the reason why, but the thing sounds like a freaking semi idling in my backyard.  It's to the point that I won't open the door to the deck because the damn thing vibrates at the frequency of pure annoyance.  Hopefully the power company will get that guy back on the grid post haste.