It’s Thanksgiving, Babby’s first. Of course, he won’t get to enjoy it, and we don’t know if we will, either, what with the fact that we almost never get to sit down and eat together nowadays. Babby will probably cry through the meal, which we will take turns enjoying and gobble up too fast to really be able to appreciate.
But dang it, I love cooking turkey dinner and I love eating it even more. We were invited to a friend’s house for Thanksgiving, but ultimately:
a) I like cooking turkey dinner
b) I like having leftovers
c) There would be a big crowd there, which would add to our stress with the constant screaming. Besides, we’re introverts and we’re tired enough already without being exhausted by social interactions with loads of people.
Then there is a pair of old friends we’ve celebrated every Thanksgiving with since we moved out to BC, but they seem to have dropped us in the last year or so (we’ve only seen them a few times since we announced the pregnancy) and they didn’t reply to our Thanksgiving invite. In fact, we’re not even sure they’re in the province. They might be in Montreal getting gender reassignment surgery. So we’re gonna try and be thankful on our own, and this way we won’t have to worry about Babby’s crying drowning making other people be thankful that they don’t have children.
I am Thankful for him.
…and his sleep.
