Prologue: I have to admit that the closer I get to my little guy’s due date, the more eagerly I try to clear the calendar. It’s a beholden-to-no-man (save for my doctor) kind of thing…
And she’s a woman, so there you go.
Hosting Thanksgiving as well as a sleepover for my back-to-back birthday girls last week was the last big To-Do on my list, I think. (Key word: Think.) We survived! And made many happy memories in the meanwhile.
I. Birthday Breakfasts, Lunches, Dinners…
The festivities began last Wednesday, with the celebration of Cate’s 12th birthday. (12 years old? How cant that be?! She was six when I started blogging!) For breakfast she requested an old family recipe that my mom used to make: Fried Bread Dough.
First, thaw a loaf or two (or three or 80) of Rhodes Frozen Bread Dough overnight.
Gasp when you open the oven the next morning. Take a picture and then start frying, two to three slices at a time in a bit of Crisco & butter.
Note: This recipe is neither lowfat nor gluten-free, so if that’s what you’re looking for, I apologize.
Cate, however, does not apologize; she loves this stuff and so do we!
Serve with a generous smear of butter and/or a bit of syrup. Thank your lucky dietary stars that you make this breakfast on special occasions only.
We went to the noon Mass for her birthday—just Cate, Felicity and me, which was lovely. (The Feast of the Presentation of Mary, just as I picked it 12 years ago!) After Mass, we crossed the street, literally, to the hospital where I’ll be delivering my baby in [three?] short weeks’ time, and got a very fun tour of the maternity ward by a wonderful nurse named Judy.
“Can we stay on the fold-out couch?” my girls wanted to know. “No,” I told them. “But no offense.”
Lunch was a salad from a local deli, and supper was Cate’s all-time favorite, wild rice soup. I kept it simple; Thanksgiving loomed!
II. T-Day 2012
We were thankful—very thankful—that Grandma Cathy and Grandpa Doug were willing to come to us.
They even brought wine! So blame them for the half glass that I imbibed.
There’s something unsettling about a big pregnant lady hanging out by the table. You want to shoo her away, don’t you? For fear that she might eat everything.
Gang’s all here! Except for Little Mr. Number 7, but hopefully his plane will land by Christmas.
Look how tall my 12-year-old’s getting!
More on that later.
Here’s a quick shout-out for an awesome, post-tryptophan-induced-stupor game: Farkel!
We love this game, both the original version and the new spicified edition that Grandma & Grandpa brought.
Grandma needed a little help with the math.
Only teasing, Grandma! She was more than happy to assist 8-year-old Angela, who in turn was more than happy to sit on Grandma’s lap.
Ditto for Mr. Nini B, only he had to find a lap that was vacant.
Love Thanksgiving! Love spending time with family! Love that they had to spend the night because of an unexpected Winter snowstorm.
(Thank you, Minnesota.)
III. Back-to-Back Black Friday Party
Are you still with me? I should wrap things up, much like the gifts that my new 12- and 10-year-olds received for their birthdays.
Please note they talked me into a sleep-over.
(I couldn’t resist. Could these girls be more cute?)
There was nail-painting, of course.
How could there not be? Besides, they did it all themselves, no party-prep on my part. (I was off in a corner somewhere, sipping a coffee with my puffy sausage feet propped up.)
And then, the highlight: a trip to a local ear-piercing salon! (They’ve been waiting for this for years.) I was just planning to take them to Claire’s, but then my cousin (Felicity’s godmother) told me about a little local business run by a lovely Catholic couple.
Yay for little. Yay for local. Yay for lovely Catholic couples!
What are your rules for getting your girls’ ears pierced?
Do you wait ‘til they’re older, like 16? Or 30?
I’d always said that they must be at least 12…then caved (in Felicity’s case) because she’s a mature little girl.
They survived! And are, in this Minnesota Mom’s unbiased opinion, are all the sweeter for having done it.
Sweeter and more grown-up, that is.
[Insert big maternal SIGH right here.}