The One With the Apple Manzana Turkey

Ahh Thanksgiving. . . . . .

As I said on Facebook, I love thanksgiving because it gives me a reason to be grateful for all the people that know how to spell grateful . . . . and laugh for an entire month at all of those that don't.

Don't get me wrong here, I make spelling typos as I type on the computer, but for the most part they aren't outright spelling errors of words that were in our 4th grade spelling vocabulary. Ha ha ha.

Don't worry, I don't judge, I really just laugh.

Unless the person is continuously retarded.

At which point I judge appropriately.

'Nuff said.

Moving on.

We just passed Thanksgiving on Thursday, and despite my constant pleadings, my constant prayers, and my constant hopes, I was STILL pregnant.

I guess that's to be understood, considering I was still technically five weeks from my actual due date.

But you know how it is, it gets close and especially when you're used to going into labor a little early, somehow you just start hoping for it to be earlier and earlier.

I tell you what, if Eric and I were actually going to have any more kids, I would probalby be praying for the fourth one to be done and cooked by 20 weeks.

Seriously . . . . . I could never be an elephant.

Pregnant? For 2 years? What are you nuts?

Somehow the momma elephant got handed the crap stick during creation.

Plus she weighs like two tons.

I don't think God much liked the elephants.

But anyways, I was still pregnant. We got up on Thursday, knowing we had to be to my parents for turkey dinner at 2. So we got to cooking. Eric had somehow volunteered (or rather BEEN volunteered) to make the turkey.This was scary to us as neither one of us has ever made a turkey before, and the last thing you want to do is be the one to cook the dry turkey that everyone has to eat for Thanksgiving dinner.

So he, being the truly creative and innovative chef that he is, stabbed a bunch of holes in a can of Apple Manzana, shoved it up the turkey, and cooked it for a few hours. We also made green beans (killer green beans) and stuffing. By the time we got that all made, got cleaned up and ready, it was already time to head out the door.

Thanksgiving this year was pretty low key. It was technically a Lewis (my dad's side) thanksgiving, but since all the other aunts and uncles were off galibanting around the country, we ended up having dinner at my parent's house with the Carpender's (my mom's side). It was my parents, two brothers, my sister's family, us, and then only my Grandma Carpender was there as my Grandpa Carpender was sick. SO SAD to not have the entire family there for the dinner. But it was still yummy!! :)

Most of dinner was spent being highly uncomfortable for me, as I was trying to stuff turkey and sweet potatoes down into a stomach that is already so overcrowded with some squirmy little worm that there really wasn't much room for anything else.

The rest of dinner was spent with Eric and I making completely ridiculous jokes to my brother Jordan who is just about to turn 19, and has is first girlfriend of which the first thing he told us about her was "She's a Jew."

Now don't get me wrong, we have nothing against Jewish people - as a race or as a religion. We love Jewish people. But you have to understand Eric and I and our insane ability to make any situation crazy and something to talk about, and to completely misconstrue anything that comes out of my brother's mouth until even he isn't entirely sure of what is actual truth and fact anymore.

Example:

"So she's Jewish, huh?"

"Well, she's actually taking the discussions, but her Dad is Jewish by race."

"Jewish by race?"

"Yes."

"So is his name Josephat?"

"No. Her parent's names are Joe and Emily."

"Yes, but Joe is short for Josephat."

"No it's not."

"Is she coming over for thanksgiving dinner?"

"No. She's on vacation with her family."

"Where?"

"Israel."

"Oh to visit her homeland huh?"

And then later:

"Does her dad wear a hat on his head?"

"No. Her dad is Jewish by race, but he's Christian."

"Does she get to celebrate both the 12 days of Christmas and the 8 days of Hannakuh? Because that seems entirely unfair."

"I don't know."

"Are you going to buy her a present for Christmakkuh?"

"I don't know."

"Well if you do, you should make her a dreidel . . . . . out of clay."

We then all sat down and played the spoiled version of Monopoly. You know the one. The Monopoly game where they give you all debit cards that you load into a machine so you no longer have the added bonus of learning proper banking techniques by handling real money. Plus they start you out with $15 million dollars, and you get $2 million dollars every time you pass go. Oh and Boardwalk? Ya you land on that bad boy and stay in it's hotel . . . . it'll cost you $20 million!

Good thing I owned Park Place AND Boardwalk.

And had $22 million on my debit card.

And didn't own a single other property.

But had a free stay at every other property on the board.

Ya, you could say I am a Monopoly genius. . . . .

So anyways, for dessert some of my mom's brother's came over and my grandma came in and out from checking on my sick grandpa. She's really just not used to being anywhere without my Grandpa, they never go anywhere apart. . . . I think it's cute.

And secretly I hope that Eric and I are like that when we get old.

Really Thanksgiving was a lot of fun, mixed with lots of laughter that I can't even put into words (like the above conversations between my brother and us, probably doesn't sound that funny, but you had to be there). I'm excited to see my little brother with a girlfriend. Some members of the family are a little worried, because she isn't the same religion as us, but they've only been on a few dates, and he's 19 we're not talking marriage or anythign at this point in time. But I like seeing the self-esteem boost that my brother has knowing that he has someone who likes him and wants to be around him. The constant text messaging rings were getting a little old . . . . . but mainly because he wouldn't let me read the conversation.

So next comes Christmas.

I told Eric that if we haven't had the baby by Christmas, we aren't going anywhere, we're staying at our own house so that I can laze about in giant t-shirts and sweat pants. . . . . which is a sight no one wants to see, so keep your fingers crossed that this little baby comes out soon!

In good news though, everyone is recently telling me that I have dropped. Which makes sense, seeing as how I swear his head is in between my knees, and every time he gets the hiccups I feel it in my thighs . . . . . umm weird.

I just hope one of these days he drops completely out, rather than just firmly setting himself up against my pelvic bone, punching my bladder and kicking my rib cage.