I can’t believe my life sometimes. The house is quiet, this my first day of being a stay at home mom / wannabe novelist, and the snow is pouring down thick and fluffy outside my window while I recline on our couch and sip hot cocoa. I’m fairly certain this qualifies me as the luckiest person I know.
This small respite comes at a perfect time. We are approaching the end of NaNoWriMo (I’m sitting pretty at a little over 49,000 words) which has had me hopping all month, I quit my job and the last two weeks have been filled with last-minute projects and culling through resumes looking for my replacement, and we just hosted Thanksgiving dinner for my side of the family at our house last night.
It’s been a busy month.
But now a snow day. Snow days always feel like a bit of a gift. Perhaps that’s because they used to mean no school or work. I don’t think that’s the only reason, though, because even Aidan seems extra mellow today, content to snuggle and read books and scoot around the floor.
As for Thanksgiving, it went really well. It’s the first time I’ve ever personally been responsible for preparing the Thanksgiving meal, and hosting the holiday at my house felt like a rite of passage. Wes and I forswore turkey in favor of making truly finger-licking-good ham, and I made green bean casserole and mashed potatoes.
In lieu of spending my morning swearing obscenities at my inept attempts at pie crust, we bought these really luscious pumpkin cakes from Whole Foods (a local natural foods market with a killer bakery) and took it easy. My mother and her husband brought my step-dad’s famous Sweet Potato Pie (seriously SO GOOD) and my grandmother brought her equally famous Hot Cross Buns (they taste like the holidays).
It wasn’t a fancy affair. We ate off pretty paper plates to cut down on dishes, and neither Wes nor I can really claim we slaved over the meal, but everyone enjoyed the food and there were no empty bellies at the end of the night. I’d say that qualifies any Thanksgiving as a success.
So now I’m home with a sleeping baby, a couple open bottles of wine, a whole pumpkin cake, and about ten pounds of leftover ham. If Wes comes home and finds me collapsed on the couch in a pile of pumpkin cake crumbs with a discarded ham hock and empty bottle of wine as a pillow, you guys will know why.