the happy homewrecker

First they cancelled Alias and Threshold, now Reunion's gotten the ax. Not surprised about any of them----Alias is not what it used to be, and it's expensive; Threshold never really caught on, and same for Reunion----but I'm going to be really irked about not being able to see the complete mystery on Reunion. Will we never know who killed Samantha?

I never did find Ginger red shoes; I wound up getting a pair of black matte leather Mary Janes from Payless (half off because I also bought her shoes there for Mom's wedding!). They're so cute on her, even though she's not walking . . . and now I want some Mary Janes, too! Any suggestions? I saw some random Doc Marten's on someone's blog, but I'm pretty clueless when it comes to shoes.

Okay, okay. I do have a few thoughts on Grey's. First, the thing with the guy who woke up after being in a coma-like state for 16 years was just tragic. I felt terrible for him, for his (ex)wife, for his son, for the wife's new husband . . . it was bad for everyone. I love love loved the cooking scenes with Izzie and Dr. Burke---I mean, Preston. And who knows, I may need to adopt Cristina's "I need liquor . . . lots and lots of liquor" mantra as my own this holiday weekend! I have never, ever liked Addison, but when McDreamy drove up and she was sitting on the front porch of his trailer, something about the expression on her face, or the tone of her voice . . . I don't know, I actually felt a little sorry for her. Yeah, she did a really crappy thing, but if they're going to try to stay together, Derek can't keep throwing it back in her face. They're not going to get anywhere that way. Snaps to Meredith for being a grown-up and asking Derek how things were going in a calm, adult manner. I'm sure she's torn up inside, but she can't sit around and wait for him forever (and from the looks of next week's show, it doesn't look like she's going to!). Thoughts from anyone else?

(Received from my sister; for all that people think of me as Martha Stewart-like, I imagine that this is what Thanksgiving would be like if it were at my house).

Martha Stewart will not be dining with us this Thanksgiving. I'm telling you in advance, so don't act surprised. Since Ms. Stewart won't be coming, I've made a few small changes: Our sidewalk will not be lined with homemade, paper bag luminaries. After a trial run, it was decided that no matter how cleverly done, rows of flaming lunch sacks do not have the desired welcoming effect.

Once inside, our guests will note that the entry hall is not decorated with the swags of Indian corn and fall foliage I had planned to make. Instead, I've gotten the kids involved in the decorating by having them track in colorful autumn leaves from the front yard. The mud was their idea.  The dining table will not be covered with expensive linens, fancy china, or crystal goblets. If possible, we will use dishes that match and everyone will get a fork.  Since this IS Thanksgiving, we will refrain from using the plastic Peter Rabbit plate and the Santa napkins from last Christmas.

Our centerpiece will not be the tower of fresh fruit and flowers that I promised. Instead we will be displaying a hedgehog-like decoration hand-crafted from the finest construction paper. The artist assures me it is a turkey.  We will be dining fashionably late. The children will entertain you while you wait.  I'm sure they will be happy to share every nice comment I have made regarding Thanksgiving, pilgrims and the turkey hotline. Please remember that most of these comments were made by me at 5:00 a.m. upon discovering that the turkey was still hard enough to cut diamonds.

As accompaniment to the children's recital, I will play a recording of tribal drumming. If the children should mention that I don't own a recording of tribal drumming, or that tribal drumming sounds suspiciously like a frozen turkey in a clothes dryer, ignore them. They are lying.

We toyed with the idea of ringing a dainty silver bell to announce the start of our feast. In the end, we chose to keep our traditional method. We've also decided against a formal seating arrangement. When the smoke alarm sounds, please gather around the table and sit where you like. In the spirit of harmony, we will ask the children to sit at a separate table. In a separate room.  Next door.

Now, I know you have all seen pictures of one person carving a turkey in front of a crowd of appreciative onlookers. This will not be happening at our dinner. For sanity and safety reasons, the turkey will be carved in a private ceremony. I stress "private", meaning: Do not, under any circumstances, enter the kitchen to laugh at me. Do not send small, unsuspecting children to check on my progress. I have an electric knife. The turkey is unarmed. It stands to reason that I will eventually win. When I do, we will eat.

I would like to take this opportunity to remind my young diners (and any males present) that "passing the rolls" is not a football play. Nor is it a request to bean your sister in the head with warm tasty bread. Oh, and one reminder for the adults: For the duration of the meal, and especially while in the presence of young diners, we will refer to the giblet gravy by its lesser-known name:  Cheese Sauce. If a young diner questions you regarding the origins or type of Cheese Sauce, plead ignorance.

Before I forget, there is one last change.  Instead of offering a choice between 12 different scrumptious homemade desserts, we will be serving the traditional Pumpkin pie, garnished with whipped cream, small fingerprints, and broken crust. You will still have a choice; you may take it or leave it.

Martha Stewart will not be dining with us this Thanksgiving. She probably won't come next year either. I am thankful.

Mom asked me to bring dessert for Thanksgiving dinner. Since we're leaving Wednesday afternoon and Wednesday morning we'll be busy having our family Christmas pictures taken, and tonight I'll be crazy packing, I made one dessert last night and will make another tonight. Last night I did this Caramel Pecan pie. I'm not sure what to make of it. I'd never made it, or anything like it, before, so I tasted it this morning. I did my pie crust in the food processor and I think I may have overmixed it because it almost dissolves the minute you touch it. The pie filling is  . . . well, I don't really know what it's supposed to be like, so it's hard to describe. I put it in the fridge and tried it cold; some of the reviews said that it was better heated, so I guess I'll take it to dinner and we'll try it warm. Tonight I'm making this recipe from the Cake Mix Doctor----it's peanut butter cake and frosting (three layers!) with crushed Reese's cups between the layers and whole ones decorating the top. Can't go wrong with peanut butter and chocolate . . .

New pictures of the kids up over in their photo album. Some of my favorites:

 

And this one, in which it looks like Ginger is knocking Spencer silly with a rake handle (the handle is actually behind his head and the goofy look on his face was . . . well, I can't explain that one).

I made the trek to Crate and Barrel this afternoon. Spencer got horribly crabby (because he was hungry because he had refused to eat his lunch; sometimes I think he holds out for whatever I might bring along in my purse----like Cheerios or crackers or pretzels or whatever---so there was no way I was going to give him a snack after he refused to eat his sandwich and fruit for lunch) and Ginger was crabby because she's crabby most of the time these days. I'm hoping it's because she's frustrated with not being able to walk or communicate very well.

Anyway, Spencer had a freak-out at the store (a meltdown in a store with that much glass and porcelain is taking tantrums to a whole new level) and I had to browse with Ginger on one hip, but in the end I chose this. I looked at the Staxx, but couldn't get past the idea that they reminded me of flowerpots (something to do with the thick rim around the edge, I think). I like the Diner because it's sort of in the middle as far as weight/thickness. Our Pfaltzgraff is thick and heavy and trying to lift a stack of plates makes me feel like I should be bench-pressing to prepare for it. Diner has this retro feel, like the stuff you'd eat off of at a 50s diner, which fits in well with our cherries kitchen theme. I like it.

We're having Christmas dinner at our house this year (Mom's doing Thanksgiving), which is fine with me. Christmas morning is mostly for the kids, so we'd rather stay put and let them enjoy their gifts rather than rushing all over the state. Plus, making a ham is easier than making a turkey! Last year Gary's company gave him a gift certificate for a Honeybaked Ham and we're hoping he'll get another one this year.

Since we moved I've been wanting to replace my Pfaltzgraff dinnerware with something white. What we have is a mix of solid lavender, light blue, butter yellow and spring green dishes from a Pfaltzgraff line that was popular when we got married. I like it but it doesn't go with the kitchen we're setting up now (the yellow and red). If I can get something white, it'll go with everything. I'm thinking now would be a good time to buy since there are a lot of holiday sales, and then I could use it for Christmas dinner, too. We don't have enough of our current set for dinner, which means we'd be eating on a mix of the pastels plus this cheap old ivy-covered Corelle dinnerware from Wal-Mart (you've probably seen it before). Any suggestions on something that won't break the bank?

So, thinking about Ellen's comment below. I think it's true that I spend more time with Ginger than Spencer, but mostly out of necessity: she can't walk, she can't talk, it takes me more time to figure out what she wants . . . she's still almost completely dependent on me so I spend more time taking care of her. It is true that the worse Spencer's behavior gets, the less I want to spend time with him.

Which leads me to this question: if you have a preschooler, how much time do you spend playing with him or her? How many hours during a 12-hour day? It seems that the more time I try to spend with him, the more time he wants me to spend with him. Today I made a big effort to spend some special time with him this morning (we played Go Fish, did pages from his preschool workbook, etc.); after we'd done a bunch of things I explained to him that I had some household things I needed to get done and that he could play by himself for awhile. I started trying to clean up the kitchen, and he was there every thirty seconds or so asking me to come and play with him. I offered to let him help me, but he didn't want to. I tried explaining to him that I can't play with him all day long, that part of my job is taking care of the house, but it didn't fly. Am I supposed to be playing with him all day long? I feel like I'm his mom, not his playmate; part of my role as mother is to play with him, but I also have laundry to wash and dry and fold, bathrooms to clean, food to make and serve, dishes to wash, floors to sweep and clean, grocery lists to make . . . you all know what I mean. I'm not talking about keeping the house super-clean, I'm talking about reasonably clean and slightly cluttered. Is it unreasonable for me to expect him to entertain himself while I try to get some of these things done?

It's hard, at this stage, to play with both kids at the same time, which doesn't help. Spencer is totally uninterested in playing anything babyish and wants games, train tracks, puzzles, things with pieces that she grabs and scatters, making Spencer mad and forcing me to pay even more attention to her as I try to redirect her or keep her away. A lot of the time we wind up just having to stop what we're doing. We've tried doing things up on the table, but she just stood at my knee and sobbed because she couldn't be part of the action. I hope that as she gets older, it gets easier to spend time with the two of them together.

I feel totally scattered.