Thankfulitude.

Today, I am thankful for so many things. My adorable (and adoring) husband. My hilarious (and edible) children. A job I love that [sometimes] pays. A job I love that never pays (but one which I want to keep doing until the cows come home). My sister and her husband and my sister and her boyfriend and my sister. (I realize that this sounds like a lot of men for one sister.) My nephews. Extended family. Bestie friends, both far-flung and near-flung. Our kitten-cats. This blog. The tamale lady on our corner. 

But today I'm extra-special-thankful for my parents. Because today is her birthday and he could use a bit of bolstering.

And because they're still young and in love.

And because he taught me everything I know about music and she taught me everything I know about Golden Age movies.

And because even with a house full of four kids (and later their boyfriends, husbands, kids, luggage, and a small legion of sippy cups and used towels)...they've never once told us to go away. [Out loud.]

And because- for all they've done for us and will continue to do (because we're not leaving)- they deserve all the love and blessing and thanks and positive energy this world can muster. 

Starting with me. (And hopefully you.) 

Happy Thanksgiving.

Thanksgiving Party, Part 1.

The aunts and uncles are arriving! And they have boundless energy!

Pops are always good for a story.

When all else fails, put on a movie and someone
will most likely toss a blanket on you.

Nora Just Learned ALL The Words To 'Jingle Bells.'

Cousins are for hugging.

Well, it's officially the Christmas Season.

It was rung in by the Official 7.5 Hour Gridlock Post-Thanksgiving Trans-Indiana Commute Day (Observed).

Thankfully, Peej and I have been blessed by some pretty rockin' travel companions. I think you'll recognize the archetypes: One likes to read the entire time, occasionally stopping to inquire about snacks. Seated next to her is that one person who always dozes off for entire states, waking momentarily to announce that they'll drive the next leg...before sleeping well into Ohio. Then there's the gal who Just Has A Little Work To Finish Up, but still berates anyone who doesn't acknowledge the stellar harmonies and transitions on her playlist. She also has to pee a lot. Finally, we've got the guy who has taken up the glove thrown down by I-65. And Is NOT Driving Too Fast, Thanks. He also has a positively Rain Man reaction to various townships' gas prices. And will recite and repeat them with regret until the vehicle passes into a better county with even cheaper gas. WHY DIDN'T WE STOP!?

Thanksgiving itself was a whirl of fabulous meals (and meal reduxes) and insanely good pie (and redux plus a thousand), plus lots of lovely family- and an incredibly large number of Zuzu-holdin' arms. I even took a nap. I got my Graeter's and Skyline fixes, saw Nora lose her shiz with excitement over Cousin Time, and- awesomesauciest of all- saw my mother-in-law onstage in a musical revue. (Due to various Susannah-related constraints, I actually got to see a preview performance and had the whole theatre to myself. No big deal, just the kinda V.I.P. stuff I do in Ohio.)

And now, aside from a few moments of head-cold snarfiness (as a result of germy hands/toys, etc. shoved directly into my ocular cavities), I'm fully ready to embrace the holidays.

My Christmasness cannot be rushed. I'm a big fan of not celebrating one holiday until another has had its due. I realize I'm in an ever-dwindling crew of folks who do not care for Santa sales in August, but it's something I really try to hold to. Among this is my (perhaps misinformed?) disdain for midnight or 4am sales on Black Friday. Why? Well, it's because we're shockingly wealthy. (Oh, P.J. hates that joke. I think it's a rollicker.) Okay, the real reason is this: when I hear of people camping out immediately after Thanksgiving dinner, I wonder if they've done the math. For every hour they're sitting in the cold, waiting to "save" money, is pretty much an hour on the ol' personal time clock. And even if they only value themselves at minimum wage (which I do not- I'm downright six figures on the payroll of Me Time), you really hafta add that total to the items on which you've saved. I'd rather spend extra money than stand in the cold for even an hour.

Okay, I think I just gave my husband an aneurysm.

Besides, if Christmas feels thrust upon me too soon, I'm not really in the whole Christmas spirit thing. And if I'm not listening to fabulous holiday music and sipping a [large] peppermint schnapps on ice while signing cards and comfily shopping online, well then...I might as well just do an automatic transfer into each person's bank account and call it a day. ("Five dollars for you...and five dollars for you...")

But now I'm ready. And I've taken the ol' WishBook and circled pages 4-271 with easily decoded margin notes for optimum toy purchasing. (Okay, only two people will get that reference. And they are both my parents.)

Fa la la.

I Am Also Thankful For Pie.

I am thankful for so many things this year. My family (and their health.) My friends (and their continued awesomeness- and, uh, health.) Bean and Ender- even though they continue to wake us up at ungodly hours to let us know their kitty bowls are half-full. The fact that I get to write every day...and have people sometimes want to see it.

I am excruciatingly thankful for the crazy-easy six hour drive we took yesterday with the girls.

But mostly? I thank God and fate and luck and chance and exceptional timing for these three right here:

(Thanks for reading.)

Happy Thanksgiving.

You think I'm kidding about the cranberries.

You play the piano beautifully, Pop.

Thanksgiving has started off quite well.

My Dad made his signature waffles- Nora had the better part of two- and there have been more a few people dancing along with the Macy's Parade. No names...but Nora wasn't the only one marching with the Spirit of America dancers. (Also- I'm pretty sure the guy/girl ratio on that team is 7 to 800. I bet those boys felt pretty awesome last night at their motel party.)

Two of my sisters are home and the third will be here tomorrow. Plus all the guys. (That's a relatively new thing to say in this family.) My folks are here and have not yet stopped preparing glorious meals. Or facilitating naps; if ever someone is reclining, a comfy throw is plopped over their torso. (3...2...1...snore.)

I am thankful for all of the family and friends I'll get to see today and this week.  And the ones I'll be able to talk to via Skype and iPhone (for we live in The Future.)

Also, for the two turkeys and positively insane amount of side dishes and appetizers. (I will not talk to them, so much. But they will feel my love and gratitude.)

And beverages. All of the beverages, too.

I am beyond grateful for the fact that, this week, my husband has woken up with our Bitsy Bug at 6:30am- letting me sleep until eight. EIGHT! And due to his awesomeness/availability of sofa throws, I've taken no less than three naps.

I am thankful for our home- in fact, everyone's home- and various leak-free roof/floor combinations. Also, the ability to heat/cool/hydrate/shove food into various kitchens. That's a big one, too.

And I love my city, my neighborhood, the fifteen taco joints, the Middle Eastern bakery...

I'm grateful to the loved ones serving overseas...because, let's face it. I'd be awful at that job.

I'm thankful that I can have the combination of wonderful part-time work that allows me to nanny and blog and write and- most importantly- spend 22 hours each day with Nora. (We all need our down time.) And, obviously, I have love in my heart (and wallet) for the Peej that facilitates and supplements this whimsical paycheck ride.

And, as my Dad just made a massive fire in the front room's fireplace, this list could literally go on and on and on. And is that an hors devours plate? And who left this chenille throw here?

I do believe my daughter is still napping like the champion o' holidays that she is...leaving only one thing left to do.

Poke the cranberry sauce and get yelled at.

Happy Thanksgiving, Lolliers. I love you guys, too.  (Between all of this tryptophan and saccharine, naptime might come a little early today.)

Have a fabulous holiday, folks. Go on. Live it up and be merry.

...Poke the cranberry sauce.

Five weeks! I'm thinking 'ice cream cake.'

Last week, we saw our heroine attempting to baste a turkey, clean a house, soothe a newborn and prepare for partygoers. Did she succeed? (You bet your sweet mushroom gravy she did.)

The key? Help. LOTS o' help. A task-oriented dude, for one. Really, really good friends bearing yum dishes. Showering also gives a nice li'l bit of pep. Also- a baby who decides to prolong her morning nap for three hours. Nora Schoeny for the win!

P.J. and I had a moment over a carved turkey whereupon we contemplated our first housewarmyesque party, the newborn plastered to me in a sling and the big ol' MAN OF THE HOUSE carving knife in P.J.'s hand. People seem to think we know what we're doing, we mused. We laughed. Oh, how we laughed.

Black Friday was another first for me, as we found ourselves torn between "We'd be crazy to go out in that madness' and 'Five dollar sales at Old Navy!' So, we drove around for a few hours and took turns hopping in and out of the car, the shopper armed with a cell-phone and detailed list, and the carbound party remaining with a snoozing Nora Jane. (Take HER into a crammed store? I may be slightly nuts but I'm not STUPID. The number of times I got shoved and sneezed upon? I sorta wished for one of those HazMat showers every time I returned.) But, oh- the deals!

We continued our Friday night tradition of watching The Soup- you know, pop culture without that pesky TV immersion or hours wasted? We dig having inside jokes about shows WE'VE NEVER WATCHED (nor ever would), and instead enjoy following the mock-commentary each week about characters and reality stars that we wouldn't recognize, were they to show up on our doorstep. (Talk about needing a HazMat shower.)

My disdain of reality television does not in any way shake my deep and abiding love for my "programs," mind you. I am currently mourning that I can no longer watch five episodes (or more!) of The Office each day. Maybe they can make it a daily occurrence? Weekly episodes don't really fill my need. But don't pity me. P.J. has queued up entire seasons of 30 Rock and Lost for me- although that last one might take a bit more persuasion. I have a 'Lord of the Flies' thing. It's akin to the scene in So I Married An Axe Murderer, where Mike Myers has an 'earwig thing.'

But way more traumatic.

Kat came over last night and introduced me to a fabulous British web series called "Green Wing." I highly recommend it. But only if your sense of humor is superior and you enjoy your zany comedy whip-smart. Only then. (Optional, however, is the added layer of bouncing a fusserpot baby every ten minutes and asking, "What did he say? Oh, that's hilarious!" It's the anti-Dolby experience.)

Before you fear for my rotting mind, let me assure you- I'm still reading (one-handed), staving off dementia with crossword puzzles and Scrabble matches, and even managing to return emails and update the blog (one-handed, once-weekly)...so I'm fine. Really. Television is not a problem.

(It's the solution!)

*******

Confidential to PJS: My daughter and I truly appreciated your late-night reading and apologize if our open mouths and thrown back heads indicated anything but rapt enjoyment. Perhaps your voice is too soothing? (When I awoke an hour later, I saw that you, too, had fallen victim to your own powers with a similar sleeping posture.) Please do not let this dissuade you from such ventures: Vonnegut makes us chuckle in a different (and entirely welcome) manner than E! programming.

The turkey innards need to come outtards.

I decided to post a day early- why not? There's no reason I HAVE to post on Thursdays...I can still be wild, fancy-free (whatever that means), not tied down to convention...

Okay.

Or it's because we're hosting our very first Thanksgiving tomorrow and there is NO WAY ON EARTH I can get Nora ready, the house ready, the food ready (a turkey? I may end up serving deli slices) and enjoy a leisurely blogging session. So, I'm enjoying my leisure time now- typing one-handed, feeding Nora and signing a Christmas card (complete with personal message) between burps. Hers, not mine. I would feel pretty fabulous about all of this, were it not for the fact that I haven't showered in a while (the actual amount doesn't really matter) nor have I changed clothes since that moment between Nora and I when I told her, "I should really change out of this now." And didn't.

And now, two extremely inappropriate things to blog about, condensed to lessen the gross-out factor:

One. A word of advice- buy your nursing bra BEFORE you have the baby. Buy many, even if you don't know what size you'll end up being. The experience of having an incorrectly-sized bra still trumps the experience of trying on bras once you've begun to sustain a child. I have said too much.

And two. When using a breastpump for the first time, it is awfully helpful to have the suctioning function working correctly. Perhaps bring a towel. Do not allow others to witness it, either. It has the potential to turn away friends and destroy relationships. There are few things more horrifying than an incompetent pumper. Skype tutorials are fine, but keep in mind that you are one exposed body part away from internet pornography at all times.

(If this weren't such a family blog, I guarantee I could have soda coming out of your nose within minutes. Regardless of your beverage of choice.)

In other, viewer-friendly news, my daughter is losing her hair. This is something that is entirely out of my control but also something for which I feel 100% responsible. It bothers me a little too much. My daughter will always be gorgeous to me (and others- come on, she's stunning), but I do not wish to have Kojak as a kid. Maybe for an uncle. Remember in the early '90s when that colored hairspray was invented to "hide" bald patches on men and women? Thought it was an awesome idea then, even more relevant now. I'm going with that reddish-orange color.

Speaking of references only Kate will understand, my big sis came to play last week! It was fabulous for Nora Jane to meet her godmother and we had a lovely time napping and eating too much. It also gave me the opportunity to take embarrassingly long showers without fear of repercussion (or soap in the eyes) from Duchess Purpleface D'Yellipants (it's a family name.)

Kate and I went to the premiere of my workshopped play with 20% Theatre on Friday night, complete with a playwright talkback. Yes, I talked back. (I was so tired that in the midst of answering a question I blanked and admitted to the guy that I had no idea where I was going with all of this. Kate said it was handled seamlessly. They were all very kind.) The traumatic part of the evening was actually leaving Nora. She was fine, hanging out with her Dad and enjoying a previously pumped bottle (see earlier references), but I left the house feeling like I had left my hands behind or forgot to put on pants. (Kate helpfully informed me that since I was wearing a skirt, this was indeed the case.) After ten months of having her be RIGHTTHERETHISCLOSE it was extremely jarring. I cried. Then I had a great time. And was home two hours later on the dot. I even had half a beer to celebrate. (I used to wear lampshades, I swear to God I did.)

I think I've been using my time off from work to the fullest: I'm catching up on series that people have been raving about for quite awhile. Some have even ended. No matter. There has never been a better time in my life to watch things, in fifteen minute increments, throughout a 24-hour period. One of these shows is 'The Office.' I have been mainlining episodes of 'The Office.' I have gone through five full seasons in under a week. Yes. One side effect of watching a stylized show in such large quantities is that one begins to take on the patterns of speech and thought exemplified in a given series. For example, my inner monologue now sounds creepily like the explanatory asides on that show:

Keely to P.J.: These potatoes are fabulous. Just how I like them.

Keely (aside): I hate potatoes. Always have. I might throw them on the floor. Or develop an allergic reaction. Did I tell you I have an allergic reaction to iodine? Funny story...

Between that and the use of Skype as my main form of communication (keeping one's head directly in the sights of the webcam while holding a squirmy baby makes for stilted conversation at best- and don't even get me started on trying to feed her in the midst of one of these convos. See- earlier references about interweb exposure) has reduced my language skills to mush.

But who needs eloquence? I'm pretty blessed with a terrific husband, wonderful family and friends, a house that we adore, careers that stimulate us, a baby that fills my heart with joy...OHMYGOD NORA HAS FALLEN ASLEEP. Showershowershowertime oh boy clean socks!!!

(Happy Thanksgiving.)