Happy Momsgiving

(post copyright 2015, Dawn Weber)

That's right, you heard me. Instead of Thanksgiving, I'm calling it Momsgiving because, well, I don't see anybody else in this damn kitchen. Anyway, think about it: Mom's giving you turkey. Mom's giving you stuffing. Mom's giving you yams, potatoes, pie -- and possibly  diabetes.

Yes, ladies, Thanksgiving, Momsgiving, whatever you want to call it, is here, and you know what that means for us.

Hours of cooking! Distant relatives! An overwhelming urge to run far, far away!

It all begins in early November with the dreaded question, the one that leaves us sweaty and depressed:

"What are we doing for Thanksgiving?"

To this, you have several answers -- "Flying to Vegas!" "Driving to Daytona!" "Getting away from all you people!" -- but sadly, you know that none of these will be acceptable to your family members, who want nothing more than to sit around eating the food you cooked, and watching TV in the house that you cleaned spend time with you.

Because of that, you say what you do every year, the same five dreaded words:

"We'll have it here, I guess."

And so it begins.

Saturday and Sunday:

Spend 13 hours dusting and mopping guest room, living room, kitchen, and kids. Remember annual tradition of Hiding of the Liquor and Questionable Movies, as well as all-important Clearing of the Internet Browser.

Wednesday:

Rush to grocery store after work. Quickly become just another frantic woman in overpriced fleece, pillaging piles of yams, potatoes, rolls, etc. Hustle past crying babies and slamming carts, and nearly get into fight in grocer's freezer over last bag of noodles. Despite craziness, don't forget to pick up most important item on Thanksgiving list.

Your Xanax prescription.

Thursday (early a.m.):

Kids sleep, husband snores.

Not you.

Must start prepping and cooking in wee hours of morning. Exhausted already, you begin to hold  conversations with turkey such as:

-Hey there, Handsome!
-We'll go vegan next year, I promise.
-Is that your pop-up timer, or are you just happy to see me?

Oddly, turkey doesn't answer.

Thursday (noon):

Relatives arrive. Yay!

Locate Xanax.

Thursday (afternoon):

Crunch time. Dash around kitchen, simultaneously preparing yams, potatoes, stuffing, corn, gravy, rolls and turkey. Trip over relatives as they belatedly try to "help." Resist impulse to scream, "Get the hell out of my kitchen!"

Wonder if is too late for drive to Daytona.

Thursday (dinner time):

Try not to drip blood, sweat and tears into turkey while carrying to table. Sit down, say grace, appreciate loving faces, and watch as they cheerfully devour the food you spent 11 hours preparing.

In exactly four minutes and 45 seconds.

Thursday (evening):

Survey empty chairs and table full of dirty dishes. Realize you haven't seen people disappear that fast since cops showed up at senior year keg party. Sigh and roll up sleeves.

Locate hidden liquor.

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Well, folks, there you have it. I've pleaded my case. With this, the average American mother's schedule during the third week of November, I proudly declare it not Thanksgiving, but Momsgiving.

Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go. There's lists to write, plans to make, much to do, and soon I will be just another frantic woman in overpriced fleece.

On a flight to Vegas.

Mom's Mind-blowing Modern Technologies

(post copyright 2015, Dawn Weber)

It's hard, I know, to be a kid nowadays. Hours and hours spent Twittering, Instagramming, and playing video games can really take a toll on our youngsters' lives, to the extent that they are "too tired" to perform even the most menial of tasks.

Case in point:

I know, right? It's exhausting, growing up.

Unfortunately, a "tired" child doesn't do much "work." This leaves more -- much more -- for his mother to do, which in turn makes her "upset" and keeps her from the important things in life, such as "drinking wine" and "watching HGTV."

It's simple, really. Messes + chores = angry mom. Wine + HGTV = happy mom.

Thankfully, there are several magical inventions that can help kids overcome the huge hurtles so very taxing to them. And as a parent, it's my job to educate the children on these incredible wonders of the world. Read on, young ones, for your guide to . . .

 Mom's Mind-blowing Modern Technologies!

You may remember this container from such rooms as your bedroom. Often, you've been curious about the strange vessel. What could it possibly be?

This is an amazing invention called a hamper. It can get your soiled clothing off the floor and out of the way, thereby keeping your bedroom neat, fresh, and obstacle-free.To use, simply A) Remove dirty clothing from body, and B) Toss it in hamper.

"But," you ask, "where will my clothes go?" Never fear, my child, for the glory of the hamper is such that once it's full, Mom will take it away, and your wardrobe will magically re-appear, clean and fresh, in a couple of days. How she appreciates the fact that your filthy clothes are conveniently located in one place, so she can have the great honor of washing your laundry. All 33 pounds of it.

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Clearly you enjoy making aged cheese from your leftover chocolate milk. And Mom understands. It's nice to have hobbies.

One wonders, though, about the dozen other abandoned glasses of lukewarm liquids scattered about the house. What will you do when your beverages are room temperature and all the cups dirty and half empty -- or full, as the case may be? The waters, the Mountain Dews, the blue Gatorades on every available surface of the living room, bathroom, bedroom and family room, each of them left lost. Weeping.

Alone.

Fear not, my child. The remarkable device pictured above can keep your drinks cold. Never again will you lack refreshments or cups, for the appliance called refrigerator has the sole purpose of chilling and preserving food and drink items so that they can be enjoyed again and again. Sure, production of chocolate milk cheese will be reduced or eliminated by relocating half-full glasses to the "fridge," as those in the know call it. But you'll be able to enjoy your beverages over and over, simply by placing them in this super cool box.

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There seems to be some confusion, Mom's noticed, on responsibilities in this household. For instance, when one is finished with dinner, one seems to think that leaving one's dirty dishes on the table is adequate. This is not so!

In the year 2015, we have a machine to wash our dishes, and it's called -- stay with me here -- a dishwasher. To utilize such a marvel, all you have to do is open the door, and place your soiled plates and utensils inside. That's it! Mom will take it from here by putting a cleaning tab in its container and pushing "on," a task too complicated for anyone else. 

Apparently.

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"Where are my shoes?"

It's a question that's plagued children for centuries. In our house, the answer is easy: right by the front door. Heaps of shoes. Piles of shoes.
All the shoes.

I have good news, young ones. No more will you suffer the search when you leave them in this marvelous little room, designed especially to hold clothing and footwear! A closet, we call it, and why, it couldn't be more useful. You'll find your tennis shoes -- sure you will -- right in there by your football cleats. And your baseball spikes. Behind your winter coats. Under your sleeping bag. And your old toys.

Bah. Never mind. Wear the shoes by the door.

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Perhaps the simplest of our Mind-blowing Modern Technologies, the toilet paper holder is an absolute study in efficiency with its rod-and- plate design. You can sit. You can go. You can wipe.

Except when you can't.

Why? Because the holder is suddenly empty. This can be very distressing, because now you can't sit, you can't go, you can't wipe.

What will you do?

It's easy. Help the toilet paper holder fulfill its God-given purpose. Just open the cabinet door, grab a new roll of TP and slide it onto the rod. Fill it. Spin it.

Wipe it.

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And with that, we've come to the bottom of your guide to Mom's Mind-Blowing Modern Technologies. Keep this manual close by for whenever you're pondering what to do in the face of such conundrums as lack of shoes, cups, clothing and toilet paper. If you lose this guide, don't fret, as the whole thing can be summed up with four words:

Clean up your crap.

You know, choosing to do things for yourself pleases Mom. By the small act of cleaning up your crap,  you can make her happy, and, as the saying goes, when she's happy, everybody's happy. Life is all glitter and rainbows and unicorns. Like a Disney movie. With wine.

And HGTV.