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.”:

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

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


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.


Fortunately we had made these owl placecards:


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.

Breaded cod or halibut—I can’t remember which one I got
Rigatoni in brown butter sauce
Roasted asparagus

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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