I’ve been hearing this song on the radio and each time I fantasize about being dressed in black leather pants dancing in a smokey bar being seduced by some sexy long haired rocker.

Oh wait…that once was me and the husband. Now it’s more likely I would be in a crowded playroom wearing pants with an elastic waist. The husband would be there talking up about how tasty beef jerkey is when smoked just right. Seduction would be the kids going to bed early and we’d spend the evening watching The History Channel.

Anyway… here’s the link…which if I were you, I’d minimize it and just listen to the song.

http://youtube.com/watch?v=BYGCT4AQIR0

Ian called me from the store, which is often a very dangerous thing to do. Being that I left my job to start my own PR/Ad agency right before the holidays, we’re watching every dime and nickel. It is a constant struggle to rely on my faith and not let’s say ten boxes of chocolate or a bottle of Southern Comfort. I feel strongly that I did the right thing and I will prevail, however bills still need to be paid. Bill Collectors don’t seem too interested in my intuitive ramblings on my future. Shame, really. It is really uplifting to say the least.

But I digress. Ian calls me from the store and asks if I need anything. Up until the moment he asked, I was content in what we had in our kitchen, limited or not. I gave him a list of all the things I had meant to get but never got around to, things we actually needed, things we didn’t need right now but will soon need, and then just for good measure I handed the phone to Eden Marie.

“Daddy, I want you to bring home chocolate chip cookies with M&M’s,” she says without saying hello.

I had the phone on speaker and I heard Ian reply, “I don’t think so sweetie.”

“But Daddy, I need them.”

“You don’t need them… you want them. I’m not buying cookies tonight.”

She made a face and crossed her arms. Looking straight at me she says, “I guess I am going to have to tell Santa that Daddy is making me very sad and he should get NOTHING for Christmas.”

I swear I do not know where she gets her attitude from. 

Eric spent the night at his friend’s house. This friend of his sometimes exhibits behavior that would not be tolerated in our house. When I went to pick him up, Eric was irritable from lack of sleep and sugar withdrawls. After asking him several reasonable questions, he grew impatient and snapped at me. I sharply reminded him his tone was going to land him in a heap of trouble and perhaps his friend’s behavior was rubbing off on him.

He sighed heavily and cried, “Nothing has rubbed off on me! I’ve always been this way but I just buried it deep inside!”

I casually suggested he just buried it a little more deeper inside until I either became deaf and blind or he’s ninety years old. Whichever came first.

Good Times with this parenting thing…. good times.

It is 10am and the sun is barely shining. Thanksgiving Morning!  Ian, Jacob and Angelin are still sleeping. Eden is downstairs watching an old Andy Hardy movie, because I told her if she watched closely she may see Grandma as a kid. I know, I know… the kid will need therapy. At least, she’ll have something to talk about. Eric is walking in circles around his room because I told him that if he wanted to spend the night at his friend’s house, his room must be cleaned. So instead of just cleaning said room, Eric must walk aimlessly around his room, with frequent bathroom and water breaks, because walking in circles is hard work! When it comes time for me to check it, he’ll have a handful of lint to prove he had worked so hard ‘picking up’.

We’re going to my friend Kim’s house for Thanksgiving and I should be calling her. I think I should be over there right now helping cook something… and what am I doing? Sitting in my PJ’s, sipping coffee, and writing in my blog. We’ve all been sick, chest colds, the stomach flu… and I’m beat. I wish Thanksgiving was tomorrow… I need a day to recuperate.

Yesterday, I kept Eden home from preschool and she and I had a day to ourselves. We went to the bank, the grocery store, I took her to see a client downtown. I hate parking downtown, because to park closely to your destination, you must know how to parallel park. Being that I drive a huge Silverado truck and I took my driving test in Alabama… we parked six blocks away. That meant we walked in the windy cold and Eden made it her duty to jump in all icy puddles. When we got to my client’s store, Eden proclaimed loudly, ‘MY SOCKS ARE SO WET WITH COLD WATER!! I’M GOING TO BE SICK WITH COLDNOMA!” This of course, landed her a free stuff tiger and a lot of endearing sentiments from any adult that was in hearing distance. When we walked back, I got a little turned around and we ended up walking further than we should have. When we got to the truck, Eden said, “Whew. I thought we were going to have to call Daddy to find our truck!”

I took her to Village Inn and let her splurge on chocolate chip pancakes and hot chocolate. While eating, I casually said, “Weren’t you so excited to go on a walk with Mommy?” When Dad came home and asked her what she did, she exclaimed, “Mommy and I went on a walk and I was so excited!”

I know already! The kids are going to need therapy. WHATEVER. At least they’ll have happy memories of long walks and chocolate chip pancakes. Get a grip already.

This Thanksgiving we will be celebrating it with my friend/business partner’s family at her house. Kim is the owner of Bee Boppers, a cool little kindermusik center that teaches children to sing and use their imagination. I’m sure I’m not describing it accurately, mainly because teaching children to use their vocal chords to do something other than  scream that their toes taste like jelly impresses me so much I lose all use of the English language.

But that’s just me.

Eric keeps asking  if we’re going to the Bee Boppers Lady’s house for “Thanks Giv Ing” (He pronounces it like it is a person with three names. Like the uncle who visits that you don’t know very well and must say his entire name so people know who’re you talking about. IE: ”Uncle Thanks is coming over. You know Hallo Ween’s kid from her first marriage to Hollow Eve… Thanks. Giv. Ing. Yes, the one with the lisp.”) And when we get to the Bee Boppers Lady’s house will she have turkey there? Because Thanks Giv Ing needs turkey. Does the Bee Boppers Lady know this? Because if she doesn’t, she needs to know it and maybe I should call her… let’s say RIGHT NOW to find out.

All this, he asks in one breath. I try really hard not to lose my patience with him, because I understand that for Eric, Thanks Giv Ing is right up there with Christmas. Turkey, pies, and the Macy’s Day Parade… not to mention… his father’s infamous giblet gravy is enough to tickle anyone with anticipation. The kid can’t help it. Having answered yes once  isn’t enough. He must ask repeatedly, phrasing it ever so differently so I don’t get suspicious that his real agenda isn’t about turkey or Thanks Giv Ing or even his total joy in hearing his father belch hum the entire theme song to Sanford and Son. No, it’s really about him loving me so much that he must do this to remind me everyday there is a reason why God created Wellbutrin.

And of course, tequila.

This Thanks Giv Ing… I am thankful for having a husband who charms me with his sense of humor, his beautiful smile and his friendship. I am thankful that together we created beautiful (yet vocal) children. And this parent thing?

I really dig it…

I’m so thankful for that… Thankful that I remember to cherish each moment… because so quickly do these days go by and each holiday with these children is truly a gift.

Happy Thanksgiving.