Stress-free Thanksgiving. Errrr…

For those who care, my cold was mostly under control by Thanksgiving Day so thank goodness I have nothing to report about gravy popsicles or turkey ice cream. 

Actually it wouldn’t have mattered that much because, being a person driven largely by anxiety, I spend most of November eating all the foods that will be served at Thanksgiving so that come the big day, I don’t need to worry about how to fit as much food as my brain the size of two fists wants to eat into a stomach that is the size of my fist.  Cornbread stuffing instead of white bread?  No worries; I already had my fill of white bread stuffing the week before.  No room for yams on the plate?  I’m still digesting the yams I ate yesterday.  Rocco melts down before dessert?  No problem—I ate an entire pumpkin pie myself earlier this month.

Doing all the eating prep should have given me a lot of time to think about what I was going to wear to Thanksgiving but apparently I dropped the ball on that one.  I wore this dress, which from now on I will be referring to as “shirt.”:

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(Not me in picture, but thanks for asking.)

Anyway, as I learned on Thanksgiving, the shirt should have come with these arrows:

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I was boobalicious there in front of my parents, my siblings, my kids (but not my husband, who called in sick to Thanksgiving).  Just to clarify, my boobs are a size B—a small size B—and only because I’m still nursing.  (After nursing ends I get to go down to an “almost A,” and did you know you can still be saggy when you’re an “almost A?”)  In my family, however, a size B is big enough to warrant a breast reduction.  It’d be like if Dolly Parton was sisters with Kate Moss.

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Fortunately we had made these owl placecards:

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And Vincenzo for some reason insisted I wear an owl right in the V part of the neckline.  Kids are so intuitive.  I wore my Thanksgiving Owl of Modesty.

Back home that evening I sealed up the last of my Christmas cards because I like to spread the Christmas stress out slowly over two months instead of saving it for just one.  Now I will sit on the addressed, stamped, sealed envelopes until the first week of December because I hate to stress other people out by sending my Christmas cards out before they’ve even bought theirs. 

You’re welcome, from my anxiety to yours.

WHAT’S COOKIN’ 2NITE:
Breaded cod or halibut—I can’t remember which one I got
Rigatoni in brown butter sauce
Roasted asparagus

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3 thoughts on “Stress-free Thanksgiving. Errrr…

  1. Your card is nearly always the first one we get, and it’s always so cute that it makes my last-minute, on-sale cards feel sorely inadequate. So thanks in advance! 😛

  2. I love that my anxiety isn’t alone. I too have addressed and stamped my envelopes and will wait until Saturday to put them in the mail so that they can skip no-mail Sunday and arrive next week- the good news is that most cards take forever to get to the Midwest so I won’t look quite as anal retentive as I am. I’m glad you’re feeling better. Love the shirt/dress.
    PS. I do know that an A can be saggy however my B exists due not to breastfeeding but an extra 30 lbs that lingers because I too can’t lay off the white bread stuffing, ice cream and pie and I also can’t make the time to exercise. My hips thank me. My pants don’t.

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