Girls become lovers who turn into mothers - wait, what the..?? Not all of us...

First of all, hellloooo to my new followers!  That little number to the left is pushin' up to 15 and I appreciate ya ;)  Welcome, welcome!  Now let me start off by possibly immediately offending you.

Saul and I attended a wedding this weekend, which is pretty much standard for us since we're in that time of our lives when every single person we know seems to be getting married.  They're a blast and we love them (the free booze AND celebrating our friends), so this is not a post bitching about weddings.

Although, I have done that in the past.  

Whoopsies.

Anyway, this is a rant about babies.  Not babies in general - you'd have to be pretty fucking heartless to just go off and rant about a BABY - but the subject of babies amongst friends and even strangers and the judgement (OH - the judgement!) that comes from those conversations.

It is common knowledge that Saul and I are choosing not to have children.  Well, at least at this point it's a choice.  I guess we don't know if we even can have kids, but that's not something we've ever thought about, so moving on...  Our friends and family all know that we're not on the baby-train and while yes, they might tease us about it and occasionally give us some grief, they don't press the issue or condemn us for our decision.

We choose to live our lives care-free and as spontaneously as possible.  We like to be able to decide on a whim to go out to a nice dinner, or to head down to the beach at 8pm on Wednesday, or to book a trip out of town for the weekend.  Now, before you go getting your panties in a wad, I get that you CAN do all that with kids.  I have friends who have kids.  My brother-in-law and sister-in-law have kids.  Are they chained to their houses?  No.  Does doing something like going out of town require a little more planning on their part?  YES.  Saul and I are choosing not to introduce that extra factor into our lives right now.

I qualify that statement with the "right now" because HOLY SHIT has that gotten the questions to die down a bit.  People react so much more harshly to "No, we're not having kids," than they do to "No, we're not having kids RIGHT NOW."  Sure, I still get some follow up questions, but usually they just let that declaration sit.  I'm not sure why - maybe they assume we've tried and just haven't been able to conceive yet?  Whatever their thought process is, the questions usually stop there.

The real ranting on this subject comes as a result of speaking with people I didn't even know at the wedding this last weekend.  Saul was a groomsman, so he and I sat with the rest of the wedding party and I introduced myself to the girlfriends/wives.  I don't know what it is about married people, but when you meet other married people the questions usually flow like this:

"How long have you been married?"

"Do you have any kids?"

Ugh.  To both questions.

I try my damnedest to ask something more interesting - "What do you guys do for fun in xxxx (town where you live)?"  "What's your drink of choice?"  "What color is your thong?"

One of the girls I was talking to was all smiley and nice and cordial until I responded to the second question with a solid, "No."  Her face immediately went all horrified and twisty as she gasped and asked, "WHY?"  My face immediately went all hell no and bitch, please as I responded, "Because we don't want to."  Good God, you would have thought I killed her puppy.  FYI - that's all the explanation you need, hooker.  The rest of the questions she asked were all old hat for me...she asked how old I was, whether we had tried (!!!), and if we had any friends with kids already.  I told her I was turning 29 this month and she calmed down a little, letting out a relieved sigh saying, "Oh, well then you still have time."

Newsflash - it's not about "still having time."

I turned away and sipped on my drink, but it was still awkward as hell because Mrs Baby Patrol was sitting right next to me and we hadn't even started dinner yet.  Make no mistake - she didn't ruin my night, but JESUS...have some tact.

Just a tip to those of you who judge the non-baby-makers: cut it the fuck out.

I don't think you're weird if you have a kid.  I don't tell my friends I don't understand their decision to grow their families.  I don't hate babies.

Quit acting like I've committed some mortal sin.

It's rude.  It's none of your business.  It's (surprisingly enough) kind of hurtful when someone forms an immediate opinion of me and/or my character based solely on my decision not to procreate.  I'm not doing it to personally offend you - I'm doing it because it's what makes sense in my life.  I've never felt the urge to have a child.  Saul is on board with that.  If I ever feel differently, Saul and I will figure it out.  Leave our choice alone.

Also, I kind of hate that I felt like I needed to defend my stance in a post.

Jerks.

13.1

Remember back in January when I told y'all I'd be running my first half marathon?  Well, March 3, I did it ;)

I finished in 2:47:04, which I am really proud of.  It's way slower than my intended pace, but it's pretty awesome considering I hadn't run for almost 2 whole months prior to the race.

Yeah - that's right.  I hadn't run since January 12, and the longest run I completed was 5 miles.

I'm not bragging - it was dumb to take so much time off, and I really wish I hadn't.  January 7 was my first 5-mile run.  My training program consisted of 4 shorter runs during the week and then long runs, increasing by 1 mile each week, on Saturdays.  My 5-mile run went well and I was really encouraged - I can TOTALLY do this!

And then I hurt my leg - my right calf, to be exact.  And I thought it might fall off my body.  It felt like it was on fire.  So I waited for it to heal, but when it didn't feel any better after a week, I went to the doctor.  He rotated my foot around, moved my leg all over the place, and finally found the problem when he tried to bend my foot at the ankle and push my toes back up toward my shin.

"Relax your leg."

"I am...it's relaxed."

"No, seriously...quit pushing against my hand."

"Dude - my legs are totally relaxed!  I can't relax them any more!"

"Holy shit - how are you running AT ALL?!"

Basically, he told me that I'm not at all flexible (um, durr...) and that I was doing some serious damage to my muscles without proper recovery time.  You know how when you work out, your muscles "tear and repair?"  Ok, well, I'm so NOT flexible that when I ran, my calf muscles were tearing, but they were tearing pretty severely which of course means they would need more time to repair themselves, which I wasn't giving them seeing as how I was running 5 times a week.  He referred me to a therapist, which I oh-so-smartly didn't go see, and instead I just waited for the pain to go away on it's own.

It finally did about 2 weeks later (so we're looking at late January, here) and I went out for another run.  After 1 mile, I turned around, limping home on my bad leg.  I iced it and made the executive decision not to run again until the half, so as not to hurt myself again.  I'm brilliant, I tell you, brilliant!  Saul was really skeptical of this training method and basically gave up hope on me participating in or finishing the race.

Fast forward to March 2, the day of the expo and packet pick-up.  I was feeling REALLY unsettled about my preparedness level and was pretty much just freaking the fuck out about the run.  I had dinner that night with some friends who were running, and they gave me all kinds of pep talks and told me I would be fine. Then I went home to try and sleep, which was just a pipe-dream - I think I got maybe 2 hours of solid zzz's all night, I was so nervous.

The morning of the run, we got up and out the door by 5:30am (race started at 6:47 for the marathoners, 7am for the halfies), and I was desperately trying to keep my piece of peanut butter toast down.  I planned to run alone since my pace was slower than the friends I had running, so I had my iPod Shuffle, my watch, my little SpiBelt with a few ShotBloks and some quick-release Tylenol, and my insane fear to keep me going.  I gave Saul a kiss goodbye and jumped into my corral, still trying not to hurl on the runners around me.  Saul and I planned to see each other at mile 1.5, and then not again until mile 10.

We started right on time, and my legs felt great.  After the first mile I was feeling more relaxed and concentrating on keeping my pace steady.  I have a tendency to try and keep up with people around me, regardless of how fast they're running, which is usually a lot faster than me, but I stayed where I was comfortable and was searching for Saul at the next half-mile.  He was right where he said he'd be, and I couldn't believe how happy it made me to see him, even though I had just left him 15 minutes before.  I was feeling really encouraged and knew I could finish this thing.

The course was flat and through a part of town I know, but don't drive through often, so the scenery was relatively new to me.  I hadn't really studied the course map before-hand, which I think ended up working in my favor because I never really knew where I was going and was constantly surprised when I saw a new mile-marker.  I stuck with a run 10 minutes, walk 2 minutes method, which worked really well for me.  Sometimes I would run longer, but would always walk through the water stations, which were every mile and a half.  There were GU stations, too, but GU kind of grosses me out, so I bypassed those.  I did not, however, bypass the cute kids that were handing out Oreo's at mile 7 ("Oreo Speed Wagon!").  Yum.

The first marathoner passed me up when I made it to mile 6 (the course was a loop for the marathoners) and I screamed my head off for him with all the people around me.  Oreo at mile 7, and then started raining a little when I hit mile 8 (MILE 8!!!!!  FUCK YEAH!) and kept up the whole mile.  It was a welcome distraction, and kept me cool.

Mile 9 was my insane mile.  I don't know what the hell got into me, but I was a fucking machine.  I was listening to "Good Girl" by Carrie Underwood, and hit repeat twice so I listened to the song the whole mile.  Weird because I'm not even a big Carrie Underwood fan, but something about the song had me feeling it, and before I knew it I was rounding the corner to the 10th mile-marker and saw Saul standing on the side of the street, waiting for me.  I finished that mile in 9 minutes.  WTF.  I slowed to a walk and gave him a kiss and a high-five and he told me how proud of me he was and how happy he was to see me doing so well and feeling so good.  I left him feeling on top of the world.  I was at 2 hours, 9 minutes.

And then I crashed.  I don't know what it was (maybe my crazy pace during mile 9 had something to do with it), but my last 3 miles were just brutal.  My breathing was fine, but my feet were killing me.  My legs felt great, but every time I struck the ground, my feet felt like someone was taking a jackhammer to my arches.  I started to get a little sore behind my left knee, too.  My last 3.1 miles were a struggle and I wasn't able to keep the 10/2 system going, but I made it through.

I finished under 3 hours, which is awesome, but I am so proud of myself just for finishing.  The feeling I had while running through the chute and receiving my medal is not one I will ever forget.  Seeing friends and family along the course, cheering me on and yelling for me was amazing.  I will most definitely run more halfs in the future - I've got my eye on one that goes through Disney World - and will absolutely train better for them.

Here's to 13.1 ;)

Me, Sarah and Genevieve - 1 half and 2 full finishers

Some of our fans and fellow 1/2'ers...love Saul's sign

If it be your will

On our second date, Saul introduced me to his parents.  Compounded with the fact that he forgot my name on our first date, our early dating escapades are something I always give him shit about.  He just tells me that he knew a good thing when he saw it!

We actually intended to go see a movie, but when we got to the theater there was nothing playing we really cared to see - actually, at that point in our lives it was more that we didn't care to PAY to see something...we were both broke as a joke.  I was living with my parents at the time and I hadn't even mentioned to them I was seeing someone, so there was no way in hell I was offering up "my" place.  He lived on the other side of town (for the first year we dated, we drove 40+ minutes each way to see each other...), so he mentioned his parents lived close and we could just rent a movie and go there.  I assumed they were out of town or something.  What sane dude would bring a girl to his parent's house on the second date?  Um...yeah, that would be the man that is now my husband.

I followed him to the house and when we pulled up I was shocked to see bright lights in the windows - definite signs that someone was home.  Also, I was wearing jeans and a hoodie, which isn't unusual for me (it was February and cold as shit), but it definitely was NOT what I would wear when meeting the parents for the first time.  I had makeup on and my hair was done, thank god, but I was still feeling like they would think I was maybe someone he found on the street, begging for food, rather than a girl he CHOSE to call and ask on another date.  I was nervous and certain that when I left, that'd likely be the last time I ever saw them or the boy I was slowly starting to like very, very much.

I couldn't have been more wrong.  We walked into the house through the back door and, while they looked a little surprised to see me, welcomed me with comfortable ease and a "so this is her..." to Saul.  His dad warmed up to me immediately, making jokes and laughing, while his mom was a little more traditional in the whole "ask a lot of questions so we know what you're about," role, but she was really easy to talk to, as well.  By the time she stood up, an hour or so later, and announced she was going to bed, I was genuinely looking forward to my next conversation with her.

Saul and I had rented a movie (Zorro 2, for inquiring minds), and put it in when his mom went down the hall, expecting his dad to follow suit.  He didn't right away, so we just settled back, Saul and I sneaking glances at each other, wondering when we'd be alone to make-out talk.

AN HOUR LATER Larry was still in his chair, hanging out, enjoying the movie.  At that point, I decided this was definitely the weirdest date I'd ever been on.

I don't remember what caused him to get up, but just before the movie was over, he got out of his chair and bid us goodnight.  It's something Saul and I have teased him about for years - thanks for intruding on our date, we'd say.  Well, thanks for invading my house, he'd say.  It was absolutely an odd date, but one I remember with a smile, always.

Larry passed away on March 13...just a little over a week ago, and I can't believe he is gone.  He was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer on November 2 - not even 5 months ago.  None of us were ready for this, and my heart is just broken for the loss Sue, his wife, and his kids will always feel.  I only knew him for 6 years, and I will always feel a little cheated that I didn't get more time.

He was a Lutheran pastor, which I think I have mentioned here before, and very, very loved throughout the country.  He'd worked for a bunch of different churches and knew people all over the world.  The man lived quite a life (he was part of a traveling circus band at one point, for crying out loud!), and the impression he made on those he touched was evident at his memorial service, which drew a crowd of about 300 people.

Walking into the house where I first met him and was greeted by him many times since, knowing I'm not going to hear my usual, "hey babes!" and get a hug from him, stings.  I tear up every time I realize that my husband will no longer be able to talk to his dad, or build things with him, or take road trips with him.  To me, it is just so, so unfair.

I don't know when it will feel real.  I don't know when it will feel normal to go to the house Saul grew up in and not look for Larry when I walk through the door.  I do know I will miss him, and will remember him as he most often was - sitting on his deck in the sun, having great conversations with his family and friends, holding a cigar and smiling.

I love you, dear Father-in-Law,

xo

Hootie

Mean Green

For Christmas I got a BlendTech ultra, amazing, could blend cement, blender.  Because of it, I can get rid of our regular blender and some other gadget we have in our cabinet because this thing DOES IT ALL!  So instead of doing the fun thing and pulverizing a bunch of nails/screws/glass/rocks right off the bat, I did the sensible thing and blended the shit out of some fruit.

Behold, the Mean Green...

That's actually my whole lunch...nom nom nom.  Although, grapes with seeds really piss me off.

The Mean Green is seriously GREEN and surprisingly filling.  Wanna know what's in it?

2 cups (or big handfuls) baby spinach

1 orange

1 Granny Smith apple

1 banana

1 tbsp ground ginger

I used crystallized ginger, because that's all I had on hand, but I am going to use some fresh ginger next time.  Bet it gives it a little extra zing ;)

Since I didn't participate in National Margarita Day yesterday, I sipped on this and pretended there was a little Patron in it, and that I was on a beach with the wind blowing through my hair.  I suggest you do the same.

...although, I would not advise putting Patron in this for reals...barf.

Happy Thursday!

Life via Instagram

If you follow me on Instagram you've already seen all these, but seeing as how I have posted jack shit for the last month, you get snapshots of it all.  Fill in the blanks with your imaginations ;)

New Year's Eve Day, in the frozen tundra
aka Fargo, ND

Snowmobiling on a frozen lake.
Yeah...just about as smart and safe as it sounds.

Out on the frozen lake.
The only thing separating me and hypothermia/death is 4 inches of ice. 

Christmas Cactus blooms again!

We keep it classy in our house.

Sunny morning at the Distillery2520

The Texans fell that day, but we drowned all our sorrows away...

Red and sparkly...not just for hookers.

ROLLing in the deep...

#lovesofmylife

She looks deceptively demure...don't let the eyes fool ya.

Cheeeeeeese

Someone's got their crabby pants on...
...wait, I'd like to go back...

February in Texas

Living room blanket fort, built by my 32 year-old husband and friends.

Squeeze of lemon, dash of horseradish - all good, my friends, all good.

He's into me

This only LOOKS like abuse.  She loves it.

BFF's since the 11th grade.

#wedrinkalot


Follow me on Instgram - @cakeene

Run, run, run, run...Girl's gonna run

So I know I said I would be writing about our trip way the hell up north to MN for NYE, but I also mentioned a certain goal I was working toward and kind of left it at that.  Am I the only one who gets irritated when people mention stuff and say they'll tell you later, and then never do?  Maybe I just have more nosy bones than your average bear in my body, but it drives me fucking bonkers!  Even if the news isn't all that ground-breaking, you said you'd bring it back up, so BRING IT BACK UP.

With that, my news isn't super amazeballs or anything, but it's a huge deal for me and I know that putting it out on the blog will only motivate me further, so here goes...

I have officially signed up for my first half marathon!

{crickets}

Right.  So I know it's a half, but good Lord, that's about 10 miles further than I had ever run (until last month), and I am pumped/terrified.  I know I can do it.  I have been training since Thanksgiving, although I will admit to using the term "training" pretty loosely up to this week.  I really was just focusing on building my fitness up and figuring out what kind of pace I was really comfortable with.

FYI...

Comfy pace for CK = REALLY FUCKING SLOW

That's not entirely true, but I am rocking out comfortable 11 minute miles right now when I would really like to be closer to the 9 or 10 minute range, which I can do when running shorter distances, but it's all about finishing for me on this first one.  It's about saying I did it.  And it's about getting motivated to do more and eventually do a full marathon (I have my eye on the DisneyWorld Marathon in 2013 for my 30th...).  I was hooked on 5Ks after running my first one in 2010 and I know that this is just the next step in continuing to build my love for running.

Also, I am hoping to repair some of the damage I've done to this body of mine over the last few years.  If you've read a while, you might remember the "Think Thin Thursday" blogs.  Those were used to keep me motivated to lose weight for a trip to Mexico and then in 2011 I straight up jumped off and then blew up that wagon.  I've GOT to get my body back in the shape it's meant to be in...no more laziness for this chick.

I feel like it's important for me to emphasize that I'm not doing the half JUST to lose weight, though.  I really want to knock this accomplishment off my list, and if I lose a few pounds while doing it, that would be awesome.  

...I don't know why I felt that was so important to emphasize, but there ya go.

The race is March 3 (The Woodlands Marathon) and I have a few other friends running the full that day, but I am pretty much running the half on my own, which suits me just fine.  I have been training alone so I am used to it.  Any tips to offer?  I am building my milage and tomorrow is my first 5 mile run.  My training program takes me up to 10 miles, which kind of freaks me out because HELLO - there are still another 3 to finish (!!), but I did a lot of research before choosing this program.  I still know literally nothing about GUs or sport beans or anything like that.  My goal is to finish, and if that means I have to crawl my ragged ass across that finish line then damnit, that's what I'll do!

HELP!!!

2012?? Hope those crazy Mayans were wrong...

It feels a little dumb to do a Christmas recap on January the 5th...clearly one of my resolutions was not to "be a better blogger."  I don't actually ever really make resolutions, anyway.  To me, they are just some lame goal I get inspired to keep up with for like 2 weeks (ok, 1...), and then by the middle of January I feel like an epic failure at life, so why put myself through that torture, right?  I do, however, have a solid GOAL I am working towards - more on that later.

Christmas was fucking crazy this year, and I can hear people going, "crazier than last year?  Because MY Christmas is always just a shit show!" and I have to say, usually our holiday season isn't that nuts.  It's busy, sure, but it's generally the same routine year after year, with the occasional addition of a niece.  This year, though, with Saul's dad being a full-on radiation/chemo cancer patient, things were a bit different.

First, he asked that all his siblings and their kids come into town to celebrate with us.  He asked after Thanksgiving, so it was pretty late notice for some of them.  His rationale for this was, simply stated, "I don't want the next time we all get together to be at my funeral," which, ok morbid, but makes complete sense.

Second, as of December 17, he was still in the hospital, and we weren't 100% sure when he would be getting out.  He ended up actually being released that evening, but trying to make Christmas plans around hospital visiting hours really sucks the Christmas spirit out of everyone, y'know?  He's now home and doing well, so Christmas was very merry.

Third, as we got closer to Christmas, shit on my side of the family starting blowing up like fucking fireworks.  An uncle in the hospital, a cousin in serious trouble, my parents possibly leaving like, Christmas Eve to go to California, and my brother wasn't coming home - boo hoo.

But, as we've done through all the other shit 2011 has thrown at us, we forged ahead.  

Saul's family being in town was something we were all totally looking forward to.  His cousins stayed with us which was basically a 9-day party at our house (die liver, die!) , and seeing the aunts and uncles was awesome.  It did wonderful things for my father-in-law's spirits, too.  He requested we all go to church together on Christmas Eve, which Saul and I haven't done in years, so that was nice.

Christmas Eve church threw a few of my family's plans out of wack, though.  Nothing that couldn't be shuffled around, but that was part of what made the holiday scheduling wonky.  Every year on Christmas Eve, my mom makes a Japanese dinner.  My g-ma has done it ever since I can remember and it's one of my favorite things about the holiday season.  Sesame noodles, fried rice, sushi, tempura shrimp, and Gyoza - basically, Japanese tacos.  YUM.  It's also pretty much a giant drink-fest at my parent's house.  We planned to do the big dinner on Dec 23, and we invited the cousins to come with.

The 22nd, I started to get super sad that little bro wasn't coming home.  More sad at the thought of him spending the holiday ALONE in Oklahoma - seriously, are there worse places?? - than sad for myself, but sad nonetheless.  I sent him some pretty bleak texts the morning of the 23rd and he reassured me that he was fine and was sad too, but that we'd be able to see each other soon and that we could Skype later that night.  My dad got a call from him that evening and I pulled my laptop out to set up a Skype session.  People had been coming over all day - our friends always drop in to say hi and eat - so when the door opened, I didn't think anything of it.  It wasn't until I heard my dad yell, "NO WAY!" that I turned around.

LITTLE BROTHER WAS HOME!!!!

I immediately started bawling and was just a fucking mess for like 10 minutes.  My mom had known he was sneaking in, but kept it a secret from everyone else.  I was so, so, SO happy that he had made it for Christmas and beyond thrilled that he wouldn't be sitting in his apartment, totally alone on Christmas morning.  My Christmas became amazing in that moment.  And then we all got very drunk.

Christmas Eve church was great - there were 20 of us and we took up 4 pews.  Early Christmas morning was spent at Saul's parent's house, watching the nieces open their mounds of gifts.  The giant family gift exchange came next.  At about 2, we took off to meet my parents and brother at our house, which was awesome because we've never done a big holiday at our house before.  We opened gifts and drank A LOT of wine and ate chicken tacos, a new Christmas tradition.  The cousins came back and we watched some Christmas movies (too toasted to remember which, at that point) and then passed out.

It was definitely an untraditional, but very merry Christmas ;)

Next up, NYE in the frozen tundra...

Life lately

According to my iPhone...

 Bella says HI!

 The best part of waking up...

 Cute blonde nieces love the mac 'n cheese

 Foggy

 Other cute nieces love ice cream and yoga

 Absinthe and cheese?  YES PLEASE.

 Bagel Thin Hawaiian Pizza

So sad you won't be home for Christmas...

Christmas wishes

Answering the "what do you want for Christmas" question is always hard for me.  It didn't used to be - if you'd asked me 6 or 7 years ago, I'd have given you a laminated list.  In recent years, though, I've realized that if I want something I can just go out and buy it myself - so let's be clear that it's not for lack of wanting things - I'm just pretty impatient that way.  Come December, there isn't a whole lot on my wish list that I don't already have.

When in doubt, buy me alcohol.

Saul's mom asked me what I wanted this year, though, and told me I couldn't say NOTHING, so here are a few things I have seen that I wouldn't be angry about receiving...

Top row:  Rhino Mount - ZGallerie.  Sequin Top - Forever21.  Magenta Dress - Lulus.com

Middle Row: Bedding - Anthropologie.  Faux Leopard Coat - Lulus.com.  Silk Sparrow Tank - Forever21.

Bottom Row: Dip Dye Sweatshirt  - Urban Outfitters.  Riding Boot - Urban Outfitters.  Gold Dress - Lulus.com.  Leopard Heels - Forever21.

Saul says he knows what he's getting me and I know what I'm getting him (even though he already knows...I'll have details soon), so Christmas this year will be fun ;)

Also, in the spirit of the day - a little story:

My dad is Japanese.  My mother's family is not.  My mom's dad would jokingly (well, kind of) not allow my dad in his house on December 6th - Pearl Harbor Day.  Playful racism at it's finest, Ganddad!

Happy Hump Day!

Giblets have gristle?

First - thank you so much for the comments and positive thoughts for my father-in-law.  He's making progress (still in the hospital, though), and he knows there are tons of people out there rooting for him, so his spirits are up.  Pancreatic cancer is a scary motherfucker to deal with, though, so keep the good vibes coming!

Needless to say, our Thanksgiving this year was a little, um...different?  FIL was in the hospital, my brother didn't make it home, and my sister-in-law was having neurosurgery.  Yeah - that would be surgery on HER BRAIN.  She's fine - it was surgery to correct a severe facial twitch she's had for like, 7 years - but HOLY FUCKING CHRIST, you guys.

Also, since the normal chefs for the holiday were obviously out of commission, the cooking duties fell to those of us who had not recently been operated on.  I had to cook Thanksgiving.  I was officially freaking out for like 2 weeks.

We planned the menu and divided the food up.  I was in charge of the stuffing, mashed potatoes, gravy, and sweet potatoes - basically my husband's favorite part of Thanksgiving.  No pressure.  Also, he definitely didn't tell me a few thousand times before the 24th that if the potatoes and gravy were messed up, his turkey day would be ruined.  FUCK.

So what did I do, you ask?
I did what any good leader does and delegated the shit out of that shit.

Hey Saul?  Your favorite part of Thanksgiving is the mashed p's?  Then YOU make them!

Oh, and make them he did...13 g'damn pounds of them.  You think I'm joking.  Yeah...I'm 100% serious.  And they were delicious!

The gravy was awesome.  The sweet potatoes were a hit.  The stuffing...well...um...

Ok, so I am a pretty decent cook.  I make stuff up on the fly.  I can follow a recipe and tweak it if I need to omit/substitute something due to Saul's sometimes weirdly picky palette.  I've never made stuffing before, so that was the dish I was sweating the most.  I got my MIL's recipe and followed it word for word.  The only part I thought was kind of odd was the line that specified "boiling the giblets and chopping them up very fine" to add to the dressing before baking, but I've obviously eaten the dressing she has made in years past and I loved it, so I did what it said.

Ok - I'd just like to again reiterate how I HAVE NEVER MADE DRESSING BEFORE.  I've also never worked with giblets/gizzards/livers/other internal turkey grossness.  We're clear on that, right?  NEVER EVER.

Ok, continue reading...

So I boil the contents of the little bag of yuck and pull them out to chop them up.  I was getting some help from a family friend who has done Thanksgiving cooking before, so I assumed she knew what the hell was going on.  Assumption 1, wrong.  As we are cutting them up, they just seem really tough.  I'm like, dang - these suckers are kind of rubbery!  And she's all, well, maybe they'll break down when they bake?  And I'm all, the recipe says to do it, so we do it!  We chopped them as small as we could get them and then added them to the pan.  Bake away, giblets, bake away.

Everything smelled wonderful and the whole family loaded their plates to eat.  We sat down and everyone commented on how great it all looked.  I ate a bite of turkey (YUM!), a bite of mashed potatoes and gravy (DIVINE!), and then dove into the stuffing.

OH MY GOD, WHAT THE FUCK AM I CHEWING?!?

It felt like I was eating turkey gum.  Turkey gum that never got softer, and never dissolved.  Y'all - it was NASTY.  I took a quick look around the table to see what everyone else's reaction was.  Thankfully, no one at the table said anything - I am pretty sure I would have died of embarrassment - but I noticed people kind of pushing the stuffing around.  I ate around the rubbery bits because the rest was legitimately good, but I was really disappointed that I had so fantastically fucked it up.

After dinner was over, I cornered my MIL and asked her what the hell I had done wrong.  She laughed and was all, you didn't cut the gristle out!  I was like, I did not know about the gristle.  Your recipe did not specify.

She handed me a glass of wine and told me Thanksgiving is about learning something new each year and taking it forward with you to the next.  I drank my whole glass in one gulp and told her I had learned that I am never ever EVER cooking the Thanksgiving meal again.