The past four days have been wild, in that snow-flurry, family-intensive way that only Thanksgiving vacation can produce. Pomegranate seeds in salad. Cousins chasing each other around the house. Fooseball between brothers. Red wine. Sleeping late. Snow flurries. A fractured foot. And vomit.
See how I snuck those in at the end?
That part goes something like this: The day before Thanksgiving Bean wound up at the hospital for x-rays. The night before in a moment of pure giddy flail he’d leaped (and fallen) over the space heater in his bedroom (“I should have listened to you, Mommy” he said with regret later) and still wincing and hopping about in the morning T brought him to the doctor’s while I was at work. Of course, Sprout went along too, and the three of them spent much of their day in one waiting room or another while Bean was x-rayed and fitted for a boot/brase with the prognoses of a “buckle fracture.” And then… wait for it… just as T was leaving the hospital, Sprout suddenly declared his stomach hurt, and then proved it, in a vibrant display in the parking lot.
Determined to get the ingredients he’d set out to get for the stuffing he was on the line to bring for Thanksgiving dinner the next day, he hauled both boys into town, arriving an hour before I usually leave work with two ashen boys and a very fragrant car. Needless to say, I left work early and drove them home, and we spent the rest of the night on the couch, Sprout clutching a bowl, and Bean muttering about his foot, while I read to both of them.
Thanksgiving day we awoke to milky sunlight, having slept late, and to the sounds of two very chipper boys playing contentedly in their room. Neither seemed the worse for the wear and Thanksgiving day passed serenely with all the usual delights of family and feasting. Friday was a blur. We cut a tree that recently fell across our driveway. We had dinner at the inlaws. There was even a nap. And then Saturday brought round two of vomit, that occured shortly after the most acrobatic lunch of the weekend, with inlaws and twin nephews at a noodle house. Roadside noodles for Bean. Sigh.
Sunday Bean was bright-eyed and bushy tailed as is his usual manner, and both boys painted for a while in my studio, where I holed up for most of the day–painting four canvases all told, and making this video for the Squam Art Workshops blog–which is the most fun I’ve ever had doing an interview with someone remotely.
Sunday was also the day my dear friend Jessica had her baby boy–and that news set me to wondering (at the fact that when Jessica has an an almost 8 year old, like my Bean is now, I’ll have an ALMOST 16 YEAR OLD, and holy moly, that is pure craziness) and also to remembering the birth stories of both my boys.
I am exited beyond words to be heading out to California this weekend see her, and Willow and, fingers crossed, a stop at Teahouse and a peak at my gorgeous Pacific ocean too. Oh California. I’ll never stop loving you.
So, there you have it. The most rambling of updates. It’s been far too long. I keep waiting for the perfect opportunity to slip back in and get all caught up, but the perfect opportunity is never, and so here you are. Rambling. Update.
How was your Thanksgiving? What are you looking forward to this December?
Our Thanksgiving was odd-good — a last-minute dinner invitation from another American family in town, then dropping off the girls at a friend’s and driving down to Rome with the husband for James Bond and martinis at our hotel bar, after which we learned that one of our children was puking on repeat. ‘Tis the season, I suppose.
Enjoy your weekend in California; it sounds heavenly!
James Bond + martinis sounds like a perfect date though! How fun. Sorry about the rest! :)
Hi there, dear,
Our Thanksgiving was quiet this year–the opposite of last year when we hosted (and collapsed in exhaustion immediately after). Had a heritage roast chicken (as we’re not big fans of turkey), ONE side dish and ONE dessert. Followed by a viewing of Skyfall. Perfection.
Love that pic of Bean and Clover…a boy and his dog——so tender!
Glad you’ll be having a nice frolic on the West Coast—sometimes a break from broken bones and nausea is in order :).
Thanks love!
Thanks Eileen… I hardly ever have time to post long posts like this any more… but it’s fun to look back on: to see these little time stamps of where I was, and how things were. It’s amazing how fleeting everything is: even the broken foot and the vomit. Blink and it’ll be gone and even the twinkling of Christmas lights will only be a memory and spring will be here.
I love that you’re volunteering… such a good way to discover stories…
Actually, my Thanksgiving was quiet. I had several offers to feast with others, but for a host of reasons, none came to fruition. Instead, I had time with myself which was actually quite good. I came away from the time deciding I wanted to volunteer at the local nursing home. And so I have and will continue to do so… I had such a lovely time in the Alzheimer’s unit giving time and love. Weird, but true. :) I love your posts- this one had me smiling and gasping alternatively. I am looking forward to twinkling Christmas lights and the possibility of snow.