It is the first day
of December, the beginning of the last month of the year of 2013– a year full
of joy for me. Right now after a
very busy Thanksgiving weekend, I sit in my kitchen reminiscing, my head full of
memories of the last several days of a double holiday. Yes, double holiday, because this year Hanukkah
and Thanksgiving occurred at the same time, therefore, we actually had ‘Thanksgivakkuh”. Consequently my full belly not only
contains the remnants of the traditional turkey, sweet potatoes, cranberry
sauce and pumpkin pie but also potato latkes, applesauce and donuts. And this year, in addition to my
houseful of traditional harvest decorations of cornucopia filled with gourds,
surrounded by scarecrows and synthetic foliage, I also have my menorah, dreidels and Hanukkah gifts. I’m so relieved
this won’t occur for another 70,000 years.
It is so quiet now
that I can hear the sound of my refrigerator humming, almost whispering
quietly, “I’m still stuffed.” This
is a sharp contrast to less than 24 hours ago where you could hear a house full
of people talking, laughing, still eating and of course the joyful squealing of
our Lexi Grace, who turned six months old this Thanksgiving day.
Last year
Thanksgiving was at Lindsay and Scott’s house. It was the melancholy year of 2012, full of disappointment
and sadness, except for the surprise they had in store for us, when they
initiated a new “tradition” of everyone writing down, anonymously, what they
were thankful for. We put
everyone’s entries in a cup and passed it around the table, picking one out and
then guessing who wrote it. My
mother got the mysterious entry that said, ‘I
am thankful for expanding our house by two feet.’
At that time last
year, Lexi was with us, a mere promise of what truly to be thankful for. She was living inside of her mother
then, attached within. The main difference
is this year she is outside of her mother, while still very much attached to
her and even more the center of her parent’s lives. As we all know, once you become a parent- life, as you know it becomes completely
different. That phrase
resonated in my head just two days before Thanksgiving, when we went to the
mall on a wet and rainy Tuesday, with just 40 minutes to go to one clothing store that
had everything on sale for 50% off.
We had luckily found a perfect parking spot maybe 30 feet away from the
entrance to the mall, which was another 200 feet away from the store we were
going to. However when Lindsay
went to retrieve the stroller from the car, she came back, shouting, “Sh----t! Scott left the stroller in his car!”
“Well, I’ll be happy to hold her,” I reassured.
“I’ll just ‘wear her’,” Lindsay
replied.
She then proceeded
to take out her Moby wrap- a contraption that looks like a very long piece of
cloth that enables the mother to carry her baby, literally attaching her to her
body. Lindsay and Lexi together
are about 83 inches long; it looked as if the Moby was about 283 inches
long. As a matter of fact, when
she started to assemble it, I said, “I
think that thing could stretch from here to Cincinnati.”
So, while sitting
in a very good parking spot, with rain falling like buckets outside, a youtube
video played the directions for how to assemble the Moby wrap, while Lindsay
followed. It took five long
minutes, until we were ready to run
out in between raindrops and enter the mall and then the store. I never shopped so fast. We both had armfuls of tops and
pants. Lindsay decided she would
have to try some clothes on. I
looked at her incredulously, but before I had a chance to protest that we would
never make it with the unwrapping of the Moby, trying on clothes, followed by
rewrapping of the Moby, Lindsay felt something wet on Lexi’s bottom. And here we were, in a crowded store
running a big sales event in the middle of one of the largest malls in Long
Island, carrying about 20 clothes between us and we realize that Lexi finally
pooped after four days.
“Where will you change her?” I asked.
“In the dressing room.”
I looked at where
the dressing room was, and then I looked at the long line of people waiting
outside for the dressing room.
“I don’t think so,” I murmured quietly.
We explained our
predicament to a saleslady, who even though was very impressed with adorable
Lexi, explained nicely that the only thing she could do was hold the clothes
while we found a place outside the store to change a very full diaper and dirty
clothes.
It just so happened
that every sitting area we could lay the baby down, was full of many people
already sitting. So, with no other
option, Lindsay just popped a squat on a carpeted area nearby in as discreet a
place she could find and changed Lexi as quickly as possible, diaper and
clothing. Never mind rewrapping
the Moby. I just grabbed the baby
and held her while we ran back into the store to purchase the items. Luckily, all the shoppers were still on
line waiting for the dressing room and none were on line at the register. The whole experience seems a lot less
complicated when you’re not actually going through it.
The days that followed
were a whirlwind of events and activities. On Wednesday, we picked up cousin Eileen and daughter, Becca, from
Florida at the airport. We met Lindsay
and Lexi at Stop N Shop and then we came home to cook…too much food, way too
much food. My kitchen was full
with everything that makes Thanksgiving my favorite holiday– an overabundance
of ingredients, belly laughs and fun because when you’re with my cousins Eileen and Becca,
that’s pretty much what it’s all about.
Thanksgiving was
lovely, even though the table filled up my whole living room area. There were 12 of us. The main event though was Lexi’s first
time eating solid food- sweet potatoes…with an audience. I took a six-minute video; as a matter of
fact, three of us were videotaping at once, while the rest just watched Lexi
eat. Afterwards, Lindsay gave Kim
and me a taste of it. Kim said, “It’s not bad; what’s in it?” “Sweet potatoes mashed with a little
bit of breast milk,” was Lindsay’s response. Lexi’s impression of the solid food was about equal to Kim and
mine’s after Lindsay told us it contained breast milk; although, I think she
was more opposed to the sweet potatoes while we were more opposed to the breast
milk.
Of course, afterwards,
we lit the menorah and Lexi got her first Hannukkah gift from Gigi (my mom). The next day, Friday, we went to my brother and
sister in law, and we had more food, more potato latkes and more fun with more
cousins. Then on Saturday, we had
people over to finish the leftovers, which cousin Eileen made into a turkey potpie
and quiches.
It is quiet now,
except for the dishwasher whirring, cleaning the last remaining dishes from the
latest feast. Even though it’s the
first day of December the air is mild.
My neighbors are putting up their Christmas lights; the fire truck has
come by for it’s annual Sunday After-Thanksgiving tour of throwing popcorn
balls to all the children, young and old, on the block. My belly is still full; my heart is
fuller. I think of how our Lexi
Grace, six months old, full of smiles and giggles has brought so much grace
into all our lives and I know this has been the most filling Thanksgiving ever.
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