We have enough interest that the Peep Show will go on! It will be smaller than previous years, but that is okay. :)
All-O-ver, Ol-i-vore . . . we're learning that Oliver's name has some fun mispronunciations.
Also, ask him what is name is and this is what you'll hear: "My name is Oli . . . Oli . . . Oliv . . . Oli . . . I don't know."
Here I am at SFO. Again. What should have been a 40 minute layover has turned into a 5 hour layover with merely a possibility of getting on the red-eye at 10:30. Flying standby. And if I don't get on the standby flight . . . they tell me my next shot at JFK isn't for 24 hours. Yeah. So let's hope that doesn't happen. And if I don't get on standby, well, there's got to be another way home.
S: Oliver, Is Mom a child of God?
O: Yes!
S: No, Mom is a grown up!
The one night -- ever -- when Micah and I get to bed at 10:00 and could, feasibly, get 9 hours of uninterrupted sleep, Simon wakes up crying inexplicably at midnight and can't go back to sleep, Oliver falls out of bed, and we're all out a couple of hours of sleep. Clearly we need to never try to go to to bed early. It's the only way to get a good night's sleep around here.
We didn’t go to the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade like we wanted to. Reason #1: We were baking pies until 3:00 last night. Reason #2: A certain little frog woke up at 3:00 and wanted to play for an hour or so. We probably could have wrapped him up and rocked him to sleep, but in our weariness letting him play somehow made more sense. Don’t ask why, I don’t know.
It was probably for the best that we didn’t go because we did have a turkey to roast before our dinner with the other lonely members of our branch at 5:30. We also had potatoes to mash, corn to boil, and stuffing to prepare (thanks, StoveTop). By 4:30 we were ready to go and another branch member picked us up and drove us to the church. We remembered all the food, serving utensils, plates, cups, napkins, spices and even games (which we didn’t play), but we forgot the camera. So sorry for no pictures to show you the lovely bird or beautiful apple pie or the wonderful people we shared the holiday with.
If we did have our camera, however, you would see Simon gumming on some corn on the cob and the mess that his efforts left on the carpet under my chair. You would see Micah carving the turkey as a people queued up behind him to get their share. You would see me scooping cranberry sauce out of a can and stirring it up so it looked like it didn’t come out of a can (not that anybody was fooled . . .). You would see us standing by the door looking out at the pouring rain at 5:30, wondering if anybody was really going to make it. You would see black faces, brown faces, white faces sitting, smiling, laughing together. You would see 18 friends we hardly know enjoying the plenty we had because we each brought a little bit to the table.
And then you would see us back at home, dishes piled in the sink, baby asleep in his crib, giving thanks that tomorrow is another day off.