A Full House

I am up early this morning. Not to get the bird on. That’s Grant’s job. Though the way I wrote that it sounds like his job is to flip the world off. Close, considering the turkey is a whopping 27 pounds, requiring a custom made piece for the Weber so that the lid closes. 

My job is the pies

Which I can do with closed eyes. 

Plus a bunch of sides

A Thanksgiving Haiku. Sort of. 

No, I’m up early not to peel potatoes, but to write this blog post while my heart is full. Not that it won’t be full later. It just won’t be a peaceful full. More like pandemonium full. 

Yesterday, I was happy to have the task of making the eleven pies (Siwinski Dozen) because it kept me partially distracted from being anxious. Maria was traveling home from Portland with Jackson and Grant took Dave to go get Daniel from Pullman and there were warnings of fifty-five mile an hour winds plus some snow. We have had many a thing go wonky from wind in our lives so I was having visions of cars being blown off the road. 

But everyone is safe and sound and last night the house had volume again, only a reving up for today’s full decibel level. It’s interesting, I just did the math and it won’t be until the year 2021 that I will have been living with children as long as I lived without them, assuming I don’t kick the bucket by then. Or run away. So technically I have not had enough time to get used to the noise yet. 

BUT this will more than likely be the last year we have us all here for Thanksgiving. We didn’t expect Dan to be here this year because of his football equipment manager job at WSU. We have two kids who have found their person: Maria and Dillin and with that comes obligations for them to be at other family celebrations. It’s inevitable. One by one they will build their own lives and their own traditions and Grant and I will have a smaller and smaller crew for holidays until it’s just us and the dogs. 

OMG. I’m crying. 

Fucking full heart.

The dogs will be so sad!

So today, I’m going to capture the noise level and keep it inside me, like fireflies in a jar. 

Only the fireflies really need to be set free at some point in time so the rest of the world can enjoy their light. 

Sticks and Stones

I quit work early today and have been making pies since 1 pm so as to avoid kitchen chaos tomorrow: 

  • Four pumpkin pies. 
  • Three fireball whiskey pumpkin pies (as an experiment)
  • Four Tollhouse Pies

Grant and I got the food shopping done yesterday, which is a miracle in and of itself, especially because there was very little of our normal bickering. Though it did take a long time just to MAKE the list because Grant kept interrupting me when I was trying to write something down by saying something HE wanted written down, which then made me keep forgetting what I was about to write and then we would both stare at each other with these blank looks: a clash of things forgotten. Somewhere up in the universe are little floating cartoon thought bubbles with works like “butter” and “charcoal” colliding into each other.   

There are a lot of things to remember for our holiday food traditions and we didn’t want a repeat of the “Cool Whip Incident of 2018”. 

Thanksgiving is my most favorite holiday of the entire year. Food, Family, Football and the traditional Thanksgiving Day FIGHT where at least one of us loses their cool every year because they are not able to overcome someone else’s snarky words.

Whoever wrote the poem…

Sticks and stones may break my bones

But works can never hurt me. 

…has not met any west coast Siwinskis. Sticks and stones are soothing compared to the trash talk that happens in our household, especially during the holidays. It usually involves a board game or the mad rush to get the food prepared and unburned but fully cooked in perfect synchronicity (which has happened maybe 5 out of 28 times.) 

One of the boys has a video from a few years ago when our youngest Mitchel blew his cool and spewed a very gruesome but quite epic threat upon his gloating oldest brother Duncan who was I’m sure taunting him relentlessly with words “that can hurt you” during a game of Monopoly. To tell you exactly what he said would mark me publically for potential Bad Mother Prison because it’s always the mother’s fault when the child does or says bad things. 

But one thing is for certain about these Siwinskis of mine: they are not fragile people who are easily offended. Most of the world’s nonsense (and there is a lot of it) rolls off them like water on a duck because their skin has grown thick from rude word calluses. Unless of course the words are from one of their own. Those still sting.

I just hope it’s not me on video this year. I’m generally pretty joyful (wine) on Thanksgiving, unless of course SOMEONE doesn’t give me enough warning about when the turkey will be done, which can result in lumpy mashed potatoes. Like the Tragic Thanksgiving of 2017.

Gimme Some Sugar

It’s Wednesday. And I’m calling it day three of ten damn days. I’ll explain what I mean in a bit, but first you should know that Grant is calling this ten day thing one more ‘Heather Thing’. 

The nerve of some people.

He made the comment the other night when I told him what I was thinking about doing during the ten days before Thanksgiving. “Sooo many Heather things” is what he said in what felt kind of like a judgmental voice. I was rather taken aback and thought about picking a fight and asking him what the hell he meant by that snarky comment. But I had just hunkered down in bed and mostly wanted to finish my library book because one of my promises to myself in 2019 was to read one fictional book and one non-fictional book per week, which while not a completely reasonable thing to try and do every single week, once it’s on the list I have to at least try, my hope being to at least stay the SAME IQ and not get stupider.  

So I bit my tongue and did NOT pick a fight and instead just nodded and said: “Yep. One more damn Heather Thing, but at least I HAVE things. I’d be super bored otherwise and then there would be no living with me. So you’re welcome.” 

Because also on my list is “Stop picking stupid fights with your husband that you can’t win.”

Anyway, I finished the library book (check) and did NOT pick a stupid fight with Grant (check). Consequently, I felt very good about my decision to not drink any alcohol or eat excessive sugar for the ten days before Thanksgiving. I wouldn’t call this quest a detox so much as a paring down of the ‘eat and drink all of the bad things all day long since last New Year’s Eve’ mentality so that in ten days I would feel less bad about eating and drinking all of the bad things until ten days before NEXT Thanksgiving. 

Basically what I’m saying is that I know that ten days is not enough time to build a habit. I’m a fan of the thirty day habit building time frame. That’s really not what I’m wanting to accomplish here. I KNOW myself. I can read two books a week and I can write a blog post every day but I can NOT deprive myself of a glass of wine or two for the rest of my life. Nor can I resist dessert forever. 

But. I think sometimes it takes a short term deprivation to help you appreciate certain things a little more. That whole “absence makes the heart grow fonder” is not just about people. And maybe ten days will work me in to a little more moderation. Also, I want to make sure that I can be an okay person without wine and dessert, that my personality does not depend on wine and sugar as much as my girth does, which could use a little un-girthing. But that’s not the point. My girth is sensitive and really needs to be left alone for a bit and let my personality take over. 

So here I am on day three of ten damn days. But really? I feel pretty good. Though I’m probably still full of sugar and booze from last week when I was in Vegas, which could explain why I haven’t gone into diabetic shock yet. And while I do miss digging in to the delicious red wine that I bought three cases of from my bestie’s ‘source’ for only TWO DOLLARS AND FIFTY CENTS A BOTTLE (which is why I bought three cases-HELLO! INVESTMENT), last night I just filled my wine glass with sparkling water and I’m pretty sure the bubbles went to my head because I felt drunk. WHICH MEANS that I can be high on LIFE!

So here’s to seven more days (plus 365 more) of THAT!

Twenty Seven Things I am Thankful For Today

I am writing this before I have a mimosa (or two) otherwise it will be 100 things I am thankful for which means I will be droning on and on about how happy I am and no one likes to read stuff that is TOO happy and thankful. It sounds fake. I think twenty seven is enough things to be thankful for. Besides pretty soon I have to peel potatoes. I can’t be writing all day long

1) Good son Duncan took the little boys to his house last night for a sleep over. Wow. HIS house. Consequently I was able to make 10 pies early this morning without once saying “Stop talking to me I am counting cups of flour! Oh well shit! THAT pie is RUINED. Why does everyone always have to TALK?!” I was supposed to bake them last night but I got involved in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. The original, not the creepy Johnny Depp version. (Sorry Johnny. I still love you.)

2) Its fifty five degrees outside. Or something like that. Practically balmy. So we have the doors open and you can hardly smell the turtle tank with all that fresh air mixed with pumpkin pie smell and a lit candle.

3) I am thankful that Daniel still likes tie-dying things, making snow cones and that he still hugs me even though he is 13.

4) Everyone is now home so Maria has stopped following me around saying she is bored. I am thankful that is over. She was practically climbing the walls without someone to argue with. I am pretty much too chipper to argue with her today.

5) Twenty seven is a lot of things to be thankful for. Mimosas. I am thankful that soon there will be mimosas.

6) I am thankful that every time I make the bed I notice the indentation on Grant’s pillow from where his head was and that I say: “God please watch over him so he will make a new indentation tonight” before I fluff it out. I never fluff it when he is travelling.

7) I am thankful for my job: my leaders, my peers, my customers: they are my people. This is an amazing blessing. Especially since I work a lot of hours. It might as well be with people I dig.

8) Football. Three games today.

9) Four days off from work. (Despite number seven, it’s important to take time off.)

10) My favorite Steelers shirt which I intend to wear for the next four days. Because it’s holiday. Also for luck against the Saints. So I am thankful for luck and less laundry.

11) Number ten counts as two. That’s not cheating.

12) Maria just told me that you can actually die from drinking too much water: that your cells would eventually burst. I am thankful I have not done that to myself at this point in my life.

13) I am thankful that the argument is over about whether or not they are going to make a fourth Hobbit movie or if the third one coming up in December will be the last one. I mostly don’t care. I would rather listen to arguments about which is better: Grant’s stuffing WITH or WITHOUT celery.

14) I am thankful Grant put celery in the stuffing.

15) I am thankful that the beer pong tournament happening in our breezeway with our kids isn’t with actual beer. That would be wrong.

16) I am thankful that I did not get a call from Mitchel’s teacher regarding the lovely fall leaf collage he did in school. The sun up in the corner is very pretty but the leaf guy at the bottom right corner “drowning” is a little worrisome.

17) I am really thankful for the ruby slippers we bought Maria for Christmas last year. It’s important that she has something I am jealous of. It’s weird that she won’t let me wear them though.

18) I am thankful that Duncan’s friend (and ours) Connor is here for Thanksgiving. And I mostly like it when he calls me mom. Even though, just to clarify, I am not his mom. I think taking credit for six kids is enough

19) I am thankful for my headphones. I would never get any writing done without them.

20) I am thankful for my new washer and dryer. Still. After three months. I really, really appreciate being able to wash and dry a load of laundry in an hour instead of three

21) I am thankful and proud that Dillin has a good job and that HE is happy he has a job even though it’s not his dream job. He leaves the house to go to work with great optimism. I promise you Dillin: the dream job will come. Keep on keeping my love.

22) I am thankful the potatoes are all peeled. I had to take a break from this post. Being thankful is kind of exhausting. So is peeling potatoes. But NOW I have a mimosa in my hand. I promise to NOT be thankful more than 27 times

23) I am thankful for David’s wicked funny sense of humor. Except when he crop dusted me at the library yesterday: that was crossing a line. Farting in the library is sacrilegious. Just sayin.

24) I am always, always thankful for hot water. There is never a time that I am not thankful for a hot shower or bath. Except when there is not hot water. Which happens a lot in my house. And that f’ing pisses me off. BUT at least there is water. It not being hot is a first world problem that I try to not dwell on. Too much.

25) I am thankful that I quite possibly could finally be at a point in my life where the intricate growing Lego village along the wall of my living room makes me grin instead of scowl at when I am vacuuming and can’t get along the baseboard. Because of the village. I mostly realize now that Lego villages add an element of elegance and class to any décor.

26) I am thankful for Maggie, Dillin’s girlfriend whom I think of as another daughter who simply doesn’t live with us, mostly.

27) I am so very thankful, so very, for my friends and family without whom I would not be all the way okay. At all. My heart swells with love for you all.

Happy Thanksgiving!

How to Survive and Perhaps Enjoy the Holidays without Taking Speed, Owning a Time Machine or Robbing a Bank

Christmas blog post picture

Alright, so you (my ten or so readers) may have been deceitfully hooked by the title to this post, thinking that I have the answers on how to be some kind of angelic, high energy, ‘joyfully get it all done before December 25th without the use of narcotics’ parent. Well, don’t bother to take notes. This is not a “how too” lesson.This is instead a few festive thoughts from a well-seasoned maniac. You can judge me without walking in my shoes. I’m okay with that. I don’t even walk in my own shoes most of the time. I prefer either sprinting or going barefoot, which brings me to my first holiday survival tip…denial…

…it is very important to get yourself into full denial as early in November as possible, like when you are looking at your bank statement and it is clear that perhaps the $42.32 that you have managed to save for the Christmas season is not going to be enough to buy presents for six children (or, even more realistically, for you saner people, TWO children). Simply be cheerful that you have made progress and hum a lot (but don’t hum Christmas songs, it’s much too early for that… hum something like “Highway to Hell” by AC/DC, or maybe a bible song, or any Johnny Cash stuff… “Ring of Fire” comes to mind) and think: “Wow! Progress! $42.32 is SOMETHING after all!”

Side note: this is one example of when a time machine would really come in handy. I could zip back in time and reverse a few ‘poor choice’ purchases. Take for instance the $300 that Grant and I spent at the health food store on a cleanse/weight loss system that was supposed to work miracles (because we were both feeling a little more than chubby and summer was approaching and we thought it would be cool to have hot bods). It actually made us both feel kind of sick and head-spinny on the very  first day, causing us to abandon the plan immediately and head to the Swinging Doors for a chicken fried steak breakfast and two double Bloody Mary’s each to get our systems feeling normal again, thereby spending another $52.00 (including tip) and then $20.00 on pull tabs with the idea that we could win it all back and erase the memory of having been so stupid when we know full well that that shit doesn’t work when you are not willing to FULLY commit. I would dial the time machine to the day before this particular poor choice day and write a note to Grant: “Do not listen to Heather when she suggests going to the health food store tomorrow. Go instead directly to the Swinging Doors, spend $72 on mood leveling food and drink, then secretly stash $228 for Christmas, which will STILL not be enough to buy presents for six kids but will be better than $42.32).

So yes…huge digression…back to the denial idea…practice early on in November staying “PollyAnna Positive” that you will come across a big wad of cash before December 24, otherwise you will go in to a panicky tail spin that is very, very unproductive and bad for your health. It’s important to blissfully remain in full blown denial because this helps you to be your best self as you roll into to Thanksgiving…

…which leads me to the important role of Thanksgiving in preparing for holiday mania…Thanksgiving is the MECCA of all holidays…it is a charge your batteries, four day feel good weekend, beginning with that blessed day when you get to eat yummy food full of tryptophan (a mood leveling chemical that helps with denial), drink a bunch of booze (further promoting denial), watch football (excessive denial, especially with the Steelers playing this Thanksgiving) and generally sit on your ass in sweats and chillax…UNLESS YOU ARE IN CHARGE OF COOKING THE MEAL. Way back, twenty years ago, Thanksgiving used to stress me out, big time. Mainly because I am a crap cook and the pressure of putting on a full holiday spread was just too much for me. I thought this was woman’s work, and fought for that role for several years of my early married life, because I was a cranky, stubborn moron.

Enter (after several years of a lot of bad, bitterly performed cooking on my part) “The Weber” (pause here for dramatic magical background music…maybe something from one of the “Lord of the Rings” movies) and witness a husband whose real life work is about making the world a better place with his amazing ability to cook any kind of meat on said Weber, especially the glorious Thanksgiving-Day Turkey, full of special, yumilicious “Grant Stuffing”. (Pause for more music here: maybe “Magic Man” by Heart). This is when I realized that I could make the world a better place by just being the “Mashed Potato/Pumpkin Pie Side Kick”. Any moron can make mashed potatoes (I have only screwed it up two or three times in the last twenty years) and you can BUY pumpkin pies at the store. This was a huge moment for me, realizing that not being in charge of this meal did not devalue me as a woman, in fact it made me better, stronger, and more able to CHILLAX and watch football and let the master-baster do what he does best: joyfully (mostly) put on an incredible holiday spread. So for many years now, I have looked at Thanksgiving as my time to store up energy, rally my creative mojo, and pray for wads of cash to show up…super soon.

Which brings me to the subject of Black Friday and all the other potential shopping days up until the Saturday before Christmas…here are my thoughts on these days: IGNORE THEM. Carry on with your life, business as usual. Maybe throw up a little garland and let the kids tape snowflakes made from coffee filters on the windows to let them know you KNOW it’s almost Christmas and that you will probably not let them down. But other than that, just hum a lot (Christmas songs are okay at this time, it adds to the festive mirage), ignore the calendar and shun all your friends who have their shopping done by December 1st. They are not real friends; they are braggers who just want to make themselves feel superior to you. Do not let them put even a teeny chink in your armor of denial.

After years of coaching from my husband, a.k.a. “The Procrastinator”, I finally accepted the fact that it’s silly to shop early. First of all: kids change their minds…a lot. Sometimes that super cool “Presto Magico Turn Old Broken Crayons into Cool New Crayons shaped Like Cars, Animals or Aliens Machine” that you bought in June for $44.00 (because a certain couple of little boys decided that this cool potential money making machine was going to be number one on their Christmas Wish List) gets crossed off said list in December when something cooler comes along. Unless you intend to cut out cable and the newspaper so that your kids don’t see any commercials/ads touting the latest have-to-HAVE-to-go-on-living thing, ignore everything they say about Christmas gifts until about December 10th. Second, it is standard (at least in my household) that the wads of cash have mostly not shown up yet.

The last Saturday before Christmas is the day that Grant and I do ALL of our shopping. I know. I just heard a couple of you gasp. But we have it all very carefully choreographed. By December 15th the kids have written their carefully crafted letters to Santa (Mitchel even once taped a St Christopher medal to his ‘plea for football cards and not coal letter’ because he knew bribery was his only hope that year) and they KNOW there is no going back on those letters. We do request that they let us read them so that we know exactly what NOT to buy for them, since Santa has our back on these items. It also gives us time to draft counter-attack letters to Santa and send them priority mail should there be any requests for pets, drum sets, or a $600 X-Box One. It’s all about redirecting those kinds of requests with something more suitable to the recent behaviors and/or attention span of said child/teenager (though most of the teenagers in our household have learned early on to NOT take advantage of Santa’s generosity).

We then carefully compile our own list, checking it twice, or ten times (that’s my job) and gather all of our cash from various places: my “found it in the laundry so it’s mine” stash; Grant’s spare change cup-holder in his work truck; my giant jar of pennies I have been saving for the Penny Drive at the school;  a little bit of Plasma donation; a couple trips to the pawn shop and a small loan from our “we really need to save for a new dryer” envelope and we are just-that-quickly armed with what is not exactly wads of cash, but as always, enough for some thoughtful gifts and a couple of “I need to rest every two hours during this ‘why in the shit did we wait until the last minute’ shopping trip from hell ” toddies, which definitely help with denying the fact that we are morons…

…and we head out, the Saturday before Christmas (it is never allowed to be on Christmas Eve-that’s pushing it even for the “King of Procrastination”, plus Christmas Eve is ear-marked for our traditional McDonalds dinner and Christmas Eve Mass, which helps us get into the spirit of the real reason for the season: the proud owner of the BIGGEST BIRTHDAY of ALL TIME: JESUS, plus French fries are fun too)… and we leave the house all positive and giddy and this is without having consumed any kind of narcotic (just a bunch of coffee laced with bourbon (AND!)  NOT having had to rob a bank (though one year we actually wrote out a plan, and may have gone through with it had it not been for a miracle last minute Christmas bonus that saved us from potential jail time) and we just go get it done, laughing all the way…about what morons we are.

Sometimes we don’t find everything on the list (on account of the fact that everyone else got all the good stuff because they are goodie-two-shoes smarty pants early bird people who don’t know how to take RISKS). This is where creative gift certificates made from printed internet pictures (showing what you WOULD have had under the tree if your parents had it all together, but it will for sure be here by at least your birthday) come in handy. We also have been known to wrap up last minute items like cans of green beans, cases of top ramen and old tennis shoes when the number of packages is not equal per kid under the tree. Our children are pretty well-schooled to only expect one or two really good things and a few really weird and/or possibly icky items. Duncan once got an old ham bone wrapped in a deceitfully beautiful box with a bow. (We have an envelope marked ‘therapy money for our children for when they are adults and can’t figure out why they have trust issues” but we are probably going to have to borrow from it this year.) Anyway, it’s really all about (well besides Jesus) the initial presentation under the tree, which is easy to make quite stunning when you have six kids and large imaginations. And I guarantee that our kids will remember with great fondness the quirky gifts (one mystery kid is going to get a half-eaten box of chocolates  this year which I am currently working on, so don’t call ME a procrastinator!) and talk about these gifts with their therapists, more than they would if they got an X-Box One which actually works out great for everyone.

So you see, good people, we have learned through the years the art of denial, the value in the healing power of Thanksgiving and all its lovely role reversing, tryptophan glory, and have the adventuresome ability to condense all our holiday worry into one tradition filled Saturday. We drink, we eat, we come together in merry solidarity (that kind of rhymes) which is helpful during the holiday season, and we get that shopping shit done! This leaves a bit of of extra time after our shopping date to procrastinate a few things, like putting up the Christmas Tree and sending out our annual holiday letter full of exaggerated tales of how great we all are and (more importantly) make plans, should that really big wad of cash come our way (which by then would thankfully be too late to go into “spoil our kids a bunch more mode” and completely (not just kind of) wreck them for all of humanity”) to apply the money to more important things like feeding the poor, putting a bit away for college (insert silly snort here) and maybe having a little left over for investing in a nice January Detox at the health food store. Ha!