The Hostess with the Mostess

I have to admit that I was a bit nervous about hosting Thanksgiving at our home this year. It being my first year to hostess and making the decision to invite both mine and Jer's families was almost too much.
I planned for weeks and wrote list after list. I made phone calls and follow-up phone calls, doing my best to get RSVPs and keep everyone on point. It was potluck style so I wanted to be sure there would be enough to feed everyone and have a variety that complimented each other. As the day approached I had my day planned out and a new outfit and apron even. I cleaned the whole house and kitchen and shopped days in advance to prepare.
Morning of Jer was kind enough to take T-man over to the Peterson's to romp on a giant, inflatable, obstacle course. I managed to get my shower in with Zander in a fairly good mood. Just as I was getting out, Shell and Aaron call, they are on their way. WTF! It was 12 and I told her 2! But since I rarely get her company, I won't hold it against her. No make-up, hair still wet and in my bathrobe. Shell knocks and I pass Zander off to her. (he had lost composure) Since she left Aaron in the car while the kids finished napping, she accompanied me to my room while I did something with my hair. Figuring I'd have plenty of time to get make-up on after they left and before I needed to dive into cooking, I put that off. Jer returned with an exhausted, dirty Tristan.
The next 4 hours were a blur, but these I know for fact:
1. Dinner was only 45 minutes late, perfectly timed with my mother-in-law's arrival. =)
2. I never did put my apron, bought especially for the day, and still can't find it.
3. For the most part everyone enjoyed themselves and we didn't screw it up. Jer played a pretty good host, although I hear he forgot many introductions. He did manage to keep everyone with a drink of some sort.
4. I never did put on any make-up.

So the day was a success. I can say I am proud. The boys were sweet and entertaining. They played and laughed with everyone. By evening we cleared the house and were getting our little turkeys to sleep. Perhaps I will not dread my next turn in the rotation, say in 3-5 years.

This Sucks!

When Tristan stole a drink of soda from my cup at 10 months by grabbing my straw and sucking it up I was very surprised at his ability to observe and mimic. But when Zander slobbered down the cold, bitter-sweet Jamba goodness today I was beside myself. This boy is but 5 months old and is grabbing anything and everything and shoving it into his wee mouth to devour. I figured the rubbery straw on Tristan's cup would be a safe chew toy for the boy. Little did I know he would suck up the Jamba with such furry and fight to have it back once I realized what I had done.
But it's not just the Jamba or a cup for that matter that he fights for. You have to be weary of anything you eat or drink too close to mini-munchkin. His chubby arms wave about frantically with a gentle "Uh Uh" for anything he desires. If it so happens to be close enough to snatch, he grabs on with pudgy fingers of steel and raps it up in arms. Then the ever-flowing drool spout dives full faced into it. Perhaps, just maybe he'll get a bit into his mouth. He is so excited about anything he can get his grubby paws on and mouth. So imagine the squeals of delight emerging when his almost always futile attempts resulted in that fruity smoothie goodness. I had to "cut him off" or else feel the rath of a glucose induced high from my midgit man. So I guess we can safely say he is not allergic to strawberries, pineapple, or yogurt either.
As eating goes, Zander proves to be a pro. I can see my picky eater will be Tristan and I'll have to hide food from Z. It's just a matter of time before I come in to find Zander polishing off half a cheeseburger that Tristan left about. Or perhaps some mini-Oreos and a sippy cup full of chocolate milk. Something tells me this kid will self-wean himself at 9 months once he figures out what's inside that purple cup. I'd trade up too! So unless I start producing choc-nilk or Jamba, I may lose my bitty one shortly after he crawls. In the mean time I'll stop resenting nursing and milk it for all it's worth. hehe