Happy Thanksgiving, Momma’s mad.
I woke up in sheer panic. It is November 26th, almost Thanksgiving, and I’m nowhere near perfect.
My house is a disaster adorned with dog hair. (I can’t lie to you people, there is a few dried up accidents on the floor.) My laundry, actually my life, is woefully behind. There are stains on the carpet upstairs where Jesse projectile vomited from the top bunk when he was 5 years old. Suddenly those stains are a 911 emergency. We need new carpet. When is the last time the bushes were trimmed out front? Lord have mercy, I am not going to think about the garage. I’ve got to get the dogs to the groomer! That reminds me, I need to plan out our outfits. I know we will be having our pictures made a lot. Hey, I can use those pictures for a Christmas card! I wish we all had outfits that were color coordinated.
I’m behind on bills and I haven’t bought the first Christmas present. Some of my friends have already finished their kid’s Christmas shopping. How do they do it? I wish I was more like them. No time to worry about that right now. I need to clean out the kids’ closets and reorganize. They have outgrown so many clothes. Oooh, I need to reorganize the kitchen cabinets! I will be so embarrassed if somebody opens the cabinet and greasy, mismatched tuperware comes spilling out. I hope Jon does not jack up our turkey. What does he know about smoking a turkey? I’m going to get him to wash my car. People may come through the garage instead of coming to the front door so I don’t want my car to be dirty. THE GARAGE. Sweet baby Jesus. I thought I had decided to not think about the garage!?!?…
I want y’all to lean in real close so I can whisper a little truth in your ear. NIP IT IN THE BUD. (I’m using a Barney Fife quote here so I mean business.)
Fellow Mommas, stop the madness right here and now. We have sought out Pinterest for the most perfect, monogramed Thanksgiving in all of Thanksgiving history, and we are going to have Thanksgiving perfection dog gone it, no matter the cost. Hey, Handmade cranberry sauce does not make itself, and those dadgum cranberries are home grown!
Mommas, reckon it is possible that we have slightly lost sight (and our minds) of what is really important about the holidays? It’s going to be okay if our turkey is dry and it is not served on a platter with a personalized stick figure family. We get all tore up over things that don’t make a hill of beans, and we miss the real beauty of the season. Like Clark Griswald, we set standards no family event can live up to. The hard truth…. not only is our crazy quest for perfection unrealistic and exhausting but it is sinful. I’m pretty sure this is considered gluttony, and I know for sure it isn’t thankful to the Lord who gave us everything.
It’s an easy thing to do. Mommas are really passionate. Last year at this time, my Daddy was bald and had no eyelashes. He was fighting for his life. I was scared to death. I thought at the time, I would never, ever take things for granted again, and I wouldn’t sweat the small stuff anymore. This year he is healthy as a horse and I’m freaking out because I want to grind my own wheat to make bread that I top with butter I churned myself. Does this make me shallow and narcissistic? Naaaaa. It makes me a woman trying to create special memories for her family. It makes me a woman in need of a Savior with abounding grace and mercy. It makes me a woman that needs to be reminded, when I start taking a trip to crazy town, to nip it in the bud or else I will be a woman to tired to have much fun. (Fun, as you know, is the whole point.)
Okay. God blessed us with our house. It is not perfect because we actually live in it. There is a big hairy husband, 3 feral children, a goofy, know it all wife, and 3 small hairy dogs that call this place home. We make messes and memories here. Yep. There are puke stains on the carpet. Let that be a reminder that thankfully, the stomach flu is the worst sickness my children have ever had to experience. The turkey may be dry and we will feast on brown and serve rolls. I’m a lousy cook. But there has never ever been a time that I have been hungry. Thank you Lord. Your blessings are overwhelming. Forgive me for loosing sight.
Mommas, this blog is a reminder to nip it in the bud. Turn off Pinterest. Enjoy your husband, your kids, and your nutty as a fruitcake family piled in your house like sardines in a can. A little dog hair never hurt anybody. Happy Thanksgiving!