Gobble Gobble

So we survived a holiday with my family, and in fact enjoyed ourselves. That should come as quite a shock, if you know me and you know the family I have to work with. Any get-together in the past (which is very much few and far between these days) has usually ended or at least involved some sort of drama, yelling, sometimes crying and some slamming of doors. It has come to be a twisted sort of tradition. I expect it. So, I was very much pleasantly surprised that this Thanksgiving went off WITHOUT a bang. We went down to my parents' house on Wednesday, where we were met by brother too, which I haven't seen since I was just a few hours post Mason's birth. So, needless to say, the last time he saw me I was 50 pounds heavier, past tired, just a bit sore, hobbling around like a 90 year old woman and I was pretty much in a drugged stupor. I was a bit more coherent and vibrant this time around. It was neat for everyone to see Mason, some for the first time. My sister and 9 year old nephew live in California and even though that's not far at all from our home state, she had not yet seen Mason. I'm more than a little bitter about that, but I did a great job overlooking that, for the holidays. In fact, her son just adored Mason while we were visiting. He wanted to pick him up and play with him all the time, which surprised us all. How many 9 year old boys give a flip about a baby? But he did, very much. It was nice. It was a great time. Mason of course celebrated in the festivities and feasted on my plate. He ate everything I ate: turkey, ham, rolls, sweet potatoes, mashed potatoes, stuffing, watergate (my mom's specialty--pistachio pudding mixed with whipped cram pineapples, maraschino cherries, marshmallows and nuts. so good!) and even peppermint ice cream. Nana (my mom) weakened under his gaze and gave in to feeding him from her dessert plate and he ate and ate and ate. I had to finally say, "Mother! That's enough!" But it was okay, he didn't get a tummy ache or even fussier than normal, so it's all good.

We got back yesterday morning, because my husband had to work last night. But before he left, I had him drag out all the Christmas stuff so that we could get to decorating. Mason has had a good time watching it all be unpacked and put up (mostly far from his reach), and he of course gets a kick out of grabbing the pretties that he's not allowed to have, and then chucking them across the room. Good times...

Anyhow, he's currently in his playpen and downright pissed about it. Must go.