I believe October, November, December and January are prime months for my OCD.
Like clockwork, Mothra pokes her way out and I have to start thinking about my next new holiday project. Last year, I burnt my fingers making homemade Christmas cards. This year, I still plan to make my homemade cards but I’m going to try to avoid the use of a heating element. I’m also toning down the cookie train and only making two types of treats.
This year, I’m starting early. I’m hoping to get all my shopping done before Turkey Day.
Now, I know I should keep things focused. For example, I should worry more about Thanksgiving than Christmas. Well, this year, it’s all about keeping things small. Thanksgiving dinner will be an intimate dinner with my husband. My MIL won’t be coming down and my FIL doesn’t come over. I’m not inviting my mother because she’s asked for Christmas dinner early this year. So I’ve decided to volunteer on Thanksgiving Day at a kitchen and then come home and make a small Thanksgiving Day favorites meal for Lrudlrick and myself. Turkey Day favorites will be a meal that consists of all of our favorites and none of the pre-requisite guest eats. In my household that means, plenty of mashed potatoes and creamed corn. I swear this will be our meal when we’re 85, sans teeth and living in a nursing home. I’m also making my favorites sweet potatoes and stuffing. Yes, I see the mushy food pattern.
Since it’s just the two of us, I’m going to just get a turkey breast. Can someone tell me why the hell turkey breast is so expensive? Honestly, it makes me want to just buy an entire bird and cook it. The cheapest I found a breast was $35.00! If you live in the area and know a good place to find a cheap turkey breast, email me!
My preliminary countdown has been drawn up. The first weekend after Turkey Day is tree trimming. The following weekend is cookie baking and card making. Holiday Christmas Dinner for mom comes next and then Christmas at Pantrygirl. Of course, in between, we’ve got our holiday train o’ visits where we load our car up and trek to family and friends.
My husband is sort of a fly by the seat of his pants kind of guy. I’ve learned to deal with this but come Christmas time, I’m on total Mothra mode. As you can see from above, there is a method to my madness.
I even thought of having an after holiday get together for some friends and co-workers but after some recent events, I’m waning on the idea. I’m discovering I’m getting to a point in my life where a casual dinner party is my speed. You know that feeling you get at a club when you realize, this is so not for me anymore? That feeling carries around with you with other things in your life. Trust me. The closest I think I’ll get to convicing myself a get-together for friends and co-workers is a good idea is making it a New Year’s Day brunch/re-gifting party.
My final feast will come at the end of January when Chinese New Years rolls around. Thankfully, I don’t do much for this event. I usually buy a chicken, a few fish, a case of oranges and any candy with a red label and call it a day. Most of the dinner is covered by my mother. It’s not that I don’t like CNY. I do, I’m just so exhausted from Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Years that the idea of making a meal where everything including the count of ingredients is symbolic makes me want to crawl into a fetal position.
So now that I’ve written my draft schedule, the fun part begins, the details. Mothra has now officially entered the body of Pantrygirl and she’s taking over until February. Beware anyone who dares to impede her schedule and planning. Lrudlrick, be full warned.
On a side note:
We casually walked up the West Village to Midtown on Sunday and I think I sprained my ankle. I swear to the shoe Gods I cannot for the life of me wear sneakers without killing myself. Granted it was the ankle I sprained twice while ice skating. I was going through some weird Kristi Yamaguchi phase in high school and busted my ankle royally. Of course, it didn't help some husky kid ran right into my foot after I collapsed.
Meanwhile, NYC Marathon runners are walking past me wrapped in aluminum. These people ran 26 miles and I freakin' hurt myself walking. I'm talking leisurely walking too. I wasn't power walking. I wasn't jogging. I was freaking walking.
Congrats everyone who ran! Way to go!