Wednesday, November 30, 2011

Thanksgiving by the Numbers

I am having some writer's block, probably due to general holiday stress and the exhaustive use of the word "no" at my house right now. So instead of a normal blog post, I am going to give you Thanksgiving by numbers.

1...the number of Turkeys that were cooked at my house this year by me.
1...the number of times I have been solely responsible for the Thanksgiving turkey.
13...the number of pounds of my turkey. I almost went bigger. Thank the lord I didn't, or I would have had to cook it in someone else's oven, because mine is for hobbits.
Bird before
Turkey side note:
I would like to say that in my expert humble opinion, it was pretty awesome. 

3...the number of side dishes I made to go along with my turkey. We had, in no particular order, green bean casserole, sweet potato casserole, and stuffing muffins. The green bean was barely eh. Hubs requested the church potluck favorite of French's green bean goodness covered in those fried onions that I believe should be served like potato chips. It was too soupy, too cold, and too blah. Sorry love, I did a terrible job on the one thing you asked of me. The sweet potatoes on the other hand, were ah-maze-balls. Every year this is my contribution if we are going to someone else's house for Thanksgiving. I like to think I have it perfected. It doesn't hurt that there is enough sugar in the recipe to put Andre the Giant into a diabetic coma and it is covered in a generous helping of brown sugar and nut crumbly stuff. Yurmmmm. The stuffing muffins were compliments of Miss 3packs-a-day-with-some-scotch-thrown-in, Rachel Ray. I swear she has EVOO running through her veins. The muffins were super yummy and not very hard to do. And they looked fancy, which is an added bonus. Special fist pumps: I have to thank my sister-in-law. She contributed in a big way to our feast. As much as I would like to say I did it all, I did not. Please don't think less of me. I still rocked Thanksgiving in a big way.

3.5...the number of hours it took me to make two pies, two casseroles, and the stuffing. All completed during nap time on Wednesday. At warp speed. I do not often find cooking to be relaxing, with all the measuring and counting and the possibility of severe burns and amputated fingers. But that afternoon, I was totally in the zone. The Thanksgiving-I am gonna knock this schmidt out-zone. And I did. Known as the opposite of a fast mover, I feel I really outdid myself. I am now using that as my own personal best. Kind of like a marathon runner's best race. With more butter.

2...the number of pies I made. Two perfectly perfect Kentucky Derby Pies, compliments of my Aunt Susie's recipe. I was going to just have a store bought pecan pie, because I had so much other stuff to do.  Not to mention pecans are crazy expensive. We obviously missed the boat by not selling the pecans that came off the tree at our old house. Another chance to make extra money easily, lost. Any who...the more I thought about it, the more I wanted a Derby pie. My family has it every year and it screams Thanksgiving dessert to me. What's two more things to throw together? Child's play, I say. One pie went in the freezer for later yumminess and one went to the holiday smorgasbord. It was the most lauded part of the dinner, by far. I would like to be humble, but I can't. I would be betreaying the thrue nature of the pie. It is that damn good. If you have had it, you know there is no point. So special shout-out to Susie and her amazing Kentucky Derby Pie.

3...the number of children in my house for four days. Her Highness plus her two cousins. One is three and one is 4mos, so he cannot really be blamed for any of the child shenanigans that took place. Somehow two little girls felt, and sounded like, a class of 35 preschoolers. Not to mention they created a mess that rivaled the city dump. They were dragging out toys that I have not seen in months. Toys I forgot even existed. It looked like a toddler war zone in my living room.

If you were unsure what trouble looked like, now you know.
75,623...the number of times I heard the word mine.
75,623...the number of arguments that had to be settled by one or more adults between two little girls.
934...the number of tears Lady Baby caused because she is a bully and a brute. Don't let the pigtails fool you. A menace, that one.

4...the number of extra people staying at our house. It was tight but cozy. The only way it could have been easier is if we put a port-a-john in the backyard. One bathroom for 5 toilet users is a little rough. The two little ones got off easiest since they have diapers.

7...the number of gifts I purchased on Black Friday. We decided last minute on Thursday night to head over to Friendly on Friday. Naturally, I was super pumped to get some deals and wrestle my gifts out of the hands of other shoppers while we all frantically bought things at 75% off. Fast forward to noon on Friday, and it might as well have been a normal Saturday. In June. People were lackadaisically strolling around, shopping here and there. I got some things on sale, but not amazing, wrestle your mama for the last one, sales. I found it disappointing that not only did I not have to wait in much of a line anywhere, but the sales were pretty blah. I guess if you want the Hunger Games version of Black Friday, you have to go at 3 am to Target with your tent and your pepper spray. Then you can fight with an old lady in her favorite Christmas sweater for a toy you don't really want that your kid will never play with. I miss all the fun.

5...the number of hours my child was awake in the wee hours on Thanksgiving night. We suspect no nap+not enough dinner+excitement over the close proximity of cousins and grandparents to be the culprit. No biggie, I had just been on my feet for two days cooking a bountiful feast and cleaning my house so our guests would not have to wade through pet hair. Sure, I would be happy to stay up and hold Mr Potato head's feet for you while you yell at me to wake up. No problem. My pleasure.

0...the number of bites my child took of the feast I set before her. The only thing she did eat for Thanksgiving was half a cereal bar and a smoothie pouch. Hence, the aforementioned not enough dinner. Apparently its hard to sleep through hunger pains. The child would have never made it in the old days when a family of 5 shared one potato. Wimp.

and last but not least....

That's right...its a butter turkey.  
1...the number of amazing butter sculptures in the likeness of a Turkey that graced my table. It was an awe inspiring work of beauty, that no one dared use. Which made it a wasted $2.00. On the other hand, it really ratcheted up the fancy-schmancynmess of my table by at least 20 points, so I would have to say it was priceless. In an attempt to break the butter ice, I decapitated beautiful butter turkey. And still, no one dared. In my despair over my rash choice to ruin such a delicate work of art, I reattached the head, but it will never be the same. So now Frankenstein butter turkey is in my fridge, destined for the trash when hubs gets tired of looking at it. There is always next year. Maybe I will find a pair of butter pilgrims, or a butter cornucopia. Something to look forward to...

I hope everyone else had a wonderful holiday. Whether you were hosting, eating out, dining with others or not, I hope it was exactly what you wanted it to be. And if you didn't have a Turkey made of butter, while sad, there is always next year.

My one true love and I posing by the bird carcass.
That is pure romance.


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