Thanksgiving Survivors

So we did it. We hosted Thanksgiving. I spent three weeks planning, two days prepping, and approximately forty-seven minutes this morning having a small breakdown because I couldn’t find the good serving spoons. Marcus found them in the dishwasher. Obviously.

Thanksgiving Survivors

The thing about hosting is that you spend so much time worried about everything going wrong that you forget to enjoy the parts that go right. Maria saved my tamales (I may have gotten a little ambitious with the masa), and somehow Roberto and Ted ended up by the fire pit having what looked like the most serious conversation of their lives. I still don’t know what they were talking about, but Ted nodded a lot and Roberto gestured with his beer, so I’m calling it a success.

Sophie was the designated cousin entertainer, which she took very seriously. She had them all organized into some elaborate game that involved running around the backyard and a lot of dramatic falling down. Meanwhile, Theo discovered that cranberry sauce is technically a finger food and went with it.

Theo discovered cranberry sauce is a finger food and I’m not even mad about it

By the time I found him, he looked like a tiny crime scene, but he was so proud of himself that I didn’t have the heart to be anything but impressed.

We’re already talking about doing it again next year. Marcus thinks I’m crazy. He’s probably right. But watching everyone around our table, in our house, with Theo’s handprints on the sliding door and Sophie’s art projects still on the fridge – it felt like home in a way that surprised me. Plus, I only cried once, and it was happy crying, so I’m calling this whole thing a win.