Trials and Tribulations

It's been a wild month in so many ways...some of it wonderful...and some of it has been pretty difficult. Two years ago--and by that, I probably mean a year ago--everything that's been happening would have overwhelmed me and sent me into something of a stupor. Now, I can roll with the punches. I guess this is what being in a good place feels like.

First, and the most undeniably lovely. I watched one of my dearest friends bring a baby boy into the world. In her bedroom, surrounded by her husband and friends who love her, she did this remarkable thing. It was simply awe-inspiring. For about 90 seconds, I was *almost* sorry that my baby making days are behind me.

The girls and I went on a road trip over the Fourth to Colorado...we took Megan (who is a regular weekend fixture in our home) along for the ride, and enjoyed a peaceful 5 days in the mountains. There were a couple of moments when I wondered why the hell there were no grown-ups on this trip...but we got through it. Sara made friends with Eleanor, our 77-year-old next-door neighbor at the hotel, who would sit on the balcony in the evenings with a bottle of wine, which she was kind enough to share. The weather was lovely, even though it was stormy on the Fourth. Also...pot really IS legal there. And people really DO smoke it in the streets in some places.

I'm starting to get back into shape...the kind where I feel good most of the time, not the kind where I look spectacular. I'm gradually starting to run a little without too many complaints from my ankle, and I'm taking yoga classes again, which makes a HUGE difference.

As for the rest.....work has been particularly challenging in recent weeks, mostly because of the dishonest nature of one person. On the upside, everyone else--especially C and B--has been amazing and supportive, and helped me to see the situation for exactly what it is. For that, I am grateful...we have a lovely new hire and are looking forward to the future. I'm still missing my Lisa something awful, of course...but I think we can officially declare Shit on HR Month has come to a close.

One of my oldest friends visited me this week...sometimes it's a year or more between visits, but we always pick up as if no time has gone by. I have a few like this (Linz), and I love them for it. This was a bittersweet visit, as she is caring for her mom who is fighting breast cancer, and has been feeling quite overwhelmed of late. We shared pizza and tears, along with more than a few laughs...I'll be keeping her close to my heart in the months to come.

As for dating...well...this is me. I suppose I am incredibly selective, and there are *some* who tell me I am crazy for breaking things off with a handsome, genuinely nice guy with good insurance who treats me like gold. BUT. It's not enough if we run out of things to talk about in 10 minutes. I'm not looking to catch a husband, and I really don't care if I ever get married again...if I was willing to settle, I could have several times over by now. It's just that I'm not willing to settle for any less than a best friend.

Who knows? Maybe I already found him. Maybe it was a long time ago. Maybe not....but in the meantime, I'm still happy.

HR Blues

Have we met? I'm the bitch.

At least, sometimes...you see, I work in a small company, and I AM the entire Human Resources Department. This means I get to do a lot of really cool stuff like interview people and hire them. I get to hand out paychecks and make the case for everyone's raises and bonuses, which I've *almost* always won. Mostly, my job involves a bunch of paperwork, which isn't exactly fun.

Sometimes, I get to really make a difference...like when an employee is upset or having personal issues and they let me help. I've taken people to the ER, gotten them squeezed in for Dr appointments, obtained professional advice on their behalf, called in favors, calculated due dates, and let them crash at my house. I actually love them...every single person at that office.

But still, in the grand tradition of HR managers worldwide...I think mostly everyone just sees the bitch.

I get it...it's always me who brings the hammer. I handle the write ups. I do the verbal warnings. I tell you that your day off isn't going to be approved this time. It's hard to see me as anything but the Bearer of Bad News. The one who says no...the one who does the dirty work.

It still surprises me sometimes. I try not to take it personally...but the walls are incredibly thin...there are some undeniably awful things said about me when they think no one is listening. But someone almost always is...you would think I was Satan's right hand man. You would think I loathed them all and enjoyed torturing small children in my spare time.

It's a common problem among HR staffers. I just wish that before someone goes and pops off about what soulless bitches we are, they'd take a second and try to put themselves in our shoes.

There are a few things we'd like you to know:

10. We are not having fun.

9. This is the worst part of our job, hands-down.

8. Even when we overhear or have it reported to us that you called us a soulless bitch, we still love you.

7. We are only the messengers. Sometimes we agree with the message. Sometimes we don't. Either way, our job is to deliver it.

6. All HR people have hidden in the bathroom and cried a time or two after having to do something difficult. 

5. We have to fire people sometimes. Do you have any idea what that's like? Because it sucks. And honestly, we hope you never have to find out how awful it is, because we wouldn't wish it on anyone.

4. We have things going on in our lives that cause us pain, too. Being called names and having people talk shit? Not particularly helpful...

3. This may not be what we set out to do when we started college. (I wanted to teach.)

2. Sometimes--just sometimes--you could try to look at the situation from a perspective other than your own.

1. We are infinitely human.

Lent

Happy Ash Wednesday, everyone! I'm doing Lent a little differently this year...rather than give up something that appears superficial (in spite of my suffering),  I'm going to do something in hopes of making a change at a deeper level.

I recently saw a meme that really bothered me. It was on pinterest, and it was meant to be funny and in no way harmful, but it struck a chord. Of course, I can't find it again when I want to, but it essentially implied that the friendship among this group of girls was based on their mutual dislike of "everyone else" and their willingness to discuss it with one another...over wine.

On the surface, I suppose it was amusing...but then it hit me just how sad it would make me to have a relationship BASED on negativity towards something or someone. I mean, isn't that how wars are started? I know we've all done it. Everyone complains to their friends, and it's not always a bad thing. It's probably worse to keep your frustrations to yourself. But if your complaints turn into generalized bitterness towards a person or a population...you've done something wrong. I know I have.

I have an incredibly amazing, supportive, and witty bunch of friends. And for the most part, I have successfully excised most of the glass-half-empty people from my life over the past 2 years, and have surrounded myself with a primarily positive-ish bunch. But we still fall into these patterns where we make judgments or hate on people or certain groups because of their beliefs or a few actions in the course of their entire lives, and we mentally stick them in a box, bitch to our witty friends, and perhaps even come up with a fantastic nickname. Like Knothole.

Some people may deserve to be in that box. Time will tell. Others....I probably put there too quickly. I am going to try to do better. Not only that, but during Lent, I am going to try to find something I like or agree with every single day about one of them....whether it's a person in my life who has been unkind to me or to a loved one...a political party or group whose beliefs I find ridiculous...or an ex-boyfriend.  (MC is exempt from this activity, because nothing about him is good or right.) I won't give names...instead, I'll just try to focus on the positives. (Don't expect me to blog every day. I'm incapable of that. I'll save up and do a few at a time.) We'll see how this goes.

Oh. And no more texting at stoplights. :)

Saturday Afternoon Funnies

Do you ever read a news story that you've just kind of stumbled across and you have to look twice to see if it's real? Like maybe you accidentally wandered onto theonion.com without meaning to?

People can be like that, too. They just turn into cartoons...but at least they're good for a side-splitting laugh now and then! :)

Proud Momma...

I am proud of both of my girls for so many reasons. They have both turned into thoughtful, witty, bright little women. Sara is a pretty unusual 10-year-old. She is incredibly sensitive to the feelings of others, and she has, without question, the biggest heart of anyone I know. She's also hilarious, and she keeps everyone in stitches most of the time.

On Friday,  she came home from school a little upset. When I asked her what was wrong, she told me she was disappointed in a friend of hers. The friend in question had made a comment about two other girls she saw hugging at recess, saying they were acting like a couple of "lezzies."

"Why would you say that?" Sara asked.

"What? Don't you know what a lesbian is?" her friend asked.

"Of course I do," she said.

"Well, it's gross! Two women together? That's disgusting!" her friend said. By now, they had attracted a small audience. Sara didn't care.

"First of all, friends hug all the time. It doesn't mean they're gay. And even if they were, just because it's different from you and what you're used to doesn't mean there's anything wrong with it. It's who they are. It's not gross."

Needless to say, on an Oklahoma playground, her comments were not well received. But she didn't back down, even when her opinion was clearly unpopular. I am so proud of her for standing up for what she believes with grace and confidence under pressure, something many adults aren't capable of doing.

My daughters are both amazing, and they each have their strengths. This is Sara's. I can hardly wait to see who she becomes.

365

So much to say and no words to say it...I've never really known this kind of contentment. I know who I am. Not only that, but damn, I like this girl...I'm not scared. I'm not sad. For the very first time in my life, I'm not TRYING to fit in anywhere. I'm just being me, and living outside the lines. What stays with you...that's what's real. My girls. My friends. The Boy. My family. And I love them more than I can say. :)

He tried to break me. Instead, I blossomed.

Will You Survive the Zombie Apocalypse?

There are all kinds of people walking this earth. Most of them--like me--are fairly unremarkable. That isn't to say they don't have interesting characteristics. Everyone does. But the older I get and the more people I encounter, the more I realize just what a rare and precious commodity common sense actually IS.

There several different types of intelligence...depending on who you ask, there are anywhere from seven to nine specific types of intelligence identified within the field of psychology, and they really can tell us a lot about ourselves and how we learn most effectively. For example,  I tend to score highest on the verbal/linguistic and musical subtypes. But for some of us, these multiple intelligence subtypes can be generalized a little more simply.

Common sense. It SOUNDS like such a simple thing, doesn't it? It isn't. It's actually quite elusive and hard to come by, which is why when I find someone with any measurable amount of real common sense--be it friend or lover--I have an unfortunate tendency to want to hang on for dear life.

Anyone can pay money for a monkey education. They may go to a good school, they may study and make good grades and even graduate with honors and might excel in their field. They may make a killer salary and be good at what they do...and while I can absolutely respect all of that, here's the thing: they may still be practically helpless when they step out of their office at the end of the day.

What I really want to know is, do you have to have information spoonfed to you in a neat, organized manner, or can you pick it up in bits and pieces on the fly and put it all together later? Are you the type that asks if this will be included on the test? Can you pick up all of those random social cues and participate in that witty banter?

The ability to think quickly and abstractly is such a beautiful thing. To me, that's the very definition of common sense. Some people have a lot of it. Some have a little. Some have none. And maybe I'm wrong, but it does seem like practical intelligence is becoming somewhat less common. Here's the thing...if you have it, you need to be around other people who have it, too. Because you may not have very much patience for people without any. In fact, there are days when you may be secretly hoping for the Zombie Apocalypse just to hurry up and sort it all out.

Farewell, Old Friend...

In the early days of 1997, I was living in a tiny rental house on Hurd Street with my then-fiancé. The house was older and it actually had the mailbox attached to the house on the front porch...one day, I opened the front door to collect the mail, and in walked a tiny gray cat, who had seemingly been standing at the door waiting.

She marched into the little house, surveyed me and her surroundings, and after apparently deciding we would suit her needs, plopped down on the rug. She purred contentedly and I scratched her head. We became her people, because she adopted us.

She was an older kitten, according to the vet...probably 6-8 months old. We had her spayed immediately. She was the most affectionate cat I had ever encountered. She loved everyone, and lived to be around people. There was nothing aloof or arrogant about this cat. She was all sweetness...unless you were a mouse.

As a mouser, she was fierce and dedicated. She was small her whole life...about 6 pounds at her heaviest point. She had tiny, delicate feet and a pretty, dainty face. She looked so ladylike...and yet if a mouse dared to cross the threshhold of any of our homes, she would hunt them down like a trained assassin.

She was incredibly quiet, and said very little. She moved with her poor college-aged newlywed parents from pillar to post and lived in 6 different houses. She had excellent manners and a kind disposition. When we had our girls, she showed no jealousy, and rook right to loving them, and would curl up next to them for naps in their cribs if we forgot to shut the door..

She WAS exasperated 5 years ago when Santa brought a kitten to our house. She was far more exasperated in April when I adopted a Great Dane/Lab mix puppy as a watch dog. Still, there was no question of her gentle but firm authority. She may have been the smallest, most soft-spoken animal in the house, but it was entirely her domain.

In her senior years, she lost all of her teeth.  I bought her canned food and gave her extra love. She went partially blind, but her spirits and happy disposition never wavered.

This morning, or sometime last night, she left us for good. It appears as though she simply went to sleep. When she didn't come out to be fed or come when she was called, I knew something was very wrong. I was right.

Some parts of it I couldn't handle. I called my dear friend Adam to help me do the part I could not bring myself to do. I am so blessed to have such good people in my life.

And I was so blessed to have nearly 18 happy years with her. She brought me so much joy, especially in the past 2 years since my divorce. When I had double pneumonia, she knew. From the day I started to feel under the weather through my fever-induced delirium, she stayed by my side. When I was crippled by depression for several months that summer and fall, she was there, all the time. Her loyalty touched and comforted me. When I was laid up with a broken ankle this past summer, she planted herself next to me and refused to leave my side.

Tonight I am heartbroken beyond words, and have cried so many tears, I'm surprised the well is not yet dry. But I am also grateful for the kindness and love shown to me by so many. Ashley, Sarah, Levi,  Adam, Deanna, Adrienne, Emily, Chani, Todd, Cari, and my parents, in particular...not to mention everyone who reached out on facebook and in text messages. So many people made me feel loved in the face of sorrow. I am blessed beyond measure to have had this sweet fur baby in our family for so many years.

The girls are taking it hard, especially Sara...she's taking it every bit as hard as I am. I'm sure there are people out there who think it's silly to make such a fuss over a cat. But she was mine...before I was even married. Before I had my girls. She was mine, and she was beloved.

Farewell, Sweet Sam. I hope you're walking around in Kitty Heaven with a full set of teeth and restored vision, enjoying a tuna sandwich. :)

Plumbing Fail.

It happened a little over a week ago. I got up at 2 am and went to my bathroom to pee. Had I been more awake, I might have noticed the suspicious little wad of paper sitting in the bottom of the toilet, but that didn't happen. Half asleep, I emptied my wine-laden bladder and flushed. Water rushed into the bowl, all appeared normal, and then....

Nothing.

It didn't overflow. It didn't go down. Nothing.

Instantly awake and alarmed because of an irrational fear of plumbing irregularities, I grabbed the plunger and plunged. Twice. Three times.

Nothing.

Tired and irritated, especially because there was no visible reason for this to be occurring, I padded down the hall to the kitchen and grabbed the dish soap. (Every college girl has used this trick at her boyfriend's house at least once, whether she admits it or not.) I squeezed a substantial amount into the bowl and closed the lid, figuring I'd try again in the morning, and went back to bed.

The next morning, I'd forgotten entirely about my middle of the night plumbing woes. I opened the lid and saw the pool of bright red slime coating the mostly-empty bowl. What the.....?

Wait. Dish soap! The bottle sat innocently on the back of the toilet in its unassuming pomegranate glory. Right. Surely this did the trick....I flushed again.

Nothing.

I plunged, to no avail. Now I'm just pissed...which I remembered I still needed to do. I use the girls' bathroom and head back to my room to wake up Sara, who had fallen asleep watching TV in my bed.

"Noooooooo!" she protests.

"Sorry, Kid. You have to get up."

She starts to walk into my bathroom, and I stop her, telling her the toilet is messed up, and to use the other bathroom.

"Yeah. It sounded funny when I flushed it last night," she says.

Wait. What??!

Awesome.

I made several more fruitless attempts at plunging and dish soap application over the next several days. Finally, I bit the bullet and called my sometime-beau and Handler of Household Problems and admitted my toilet was broken.

This was a rather difficult thing for me...for although we have known each other for 9 months and are extremely fond of one another, our relationship is not exactly serious. He has never seen me first thing in the morning...and I would prefer him to think I have no need for a toilet at all, thankyouverymuch...but alas, my standbys had failed me and it was time to call in a professional...and by that, I mean my contractor non-boyfriend (NBF).

"My plumbing is jacked up..." I inform him.

The pause is a long one. "Okay........so, when you say that, what exactly do you mean?" He sounds amused.

"Oh, for heaven's sake! It's not a euphemism!" I explain the series of events that has brought me to this lowly state.

"Have you plunged it?" he asks.

"Come on, Levi! Do you really think I'd be calling you about a clogged toilet if I hadn't already tried plunging it?" I'm getting pretty impatient with him, but he seems to have a point to make, so I cut him a little slack.

"Okay, but when you plunged it, did you really get in there and put a lot of pressure on it and move it around so the pipes rattled when you did it? Or did you just kind of shove it in there and pull it out a few times and it didn't work?"

It was my turn to pause. Surely I've been properly plunging toilets for the past 30 - odd years...right? "I think so......?"

"You think so? Well, did you or didn't you?" Now he sounds impatient.

"I don't know! I'm a girl! No one has ever specifically pulled me aside and taught me how to plunge a toilet, but I've been relatively successful up to now!" I retort.

"Okay.....you may just not be putting enough pressure on it." Is it just me, or does he sound a little condescending now?

"I don't know!! Maybe not!! Are you really telling me I need a boy to come and rattle my pipes properly, because I've been doing it wrong all this time? Like the plumbing equivalent of just lying there?!!"

Clearly, I've frightened him a little, but he laughs anyway and promises he'll bring his tools over tomorrow, including a snake if he needs to use it........................

Still. Not a euphemism.

****Update. I do not, in fact, know how to properly use a plunger. And Levi can be incredibly smug.

Last Christmas....

So. Here we are. It's amazing what a difference 365 days can make in a person's life. Sometimes, in some ways, it can feel like an entirely different life altogether...but hindsight being what it is, I can also see how it's exactly as it should be.

You may be shaking your head at my decision to rip off the title of the Worst Christmas Song of All Time...but if anything, I think that makes it especially fitting. Last Christmas may have looked pretty in the pictures, but it wasn't real. It felt real. I never imagined this Christmas would turn out this way, but so many lessons in life have to be learned the hard way...getting here was Hell on Earth. But when I think of all I've gained, I am so thankful...

My Girls: Yes, I've always had them...but I can honestly say I am 500% closer to them both than I was even a year ago...Sara and I have always been tight. We can have entire conversations without speaking and read each other's moods. But the thing is...when I hurt, she hurts, and vice versa. When The Fraud revealed himself, the pain was unbearable, and she felt it just as keenly as I did. Now she's the one suffering a hurt I can't fix for her, and facing an uncertain future that she wants no part of...my heart breaks for her every day, but it also has drawn us even closer.

Em and I...well, while I would give my life for her in the blink of an eye, we've always had to work harder to get along...I am happy to say, those days have mostly passed. We enjoy a genuine affection for each other as we continue to find more and more common ground. As it turns out, 14-year-old girls really DO need their mothers...especially when they have boyfriends and the questions that invariably go along with them...and a love of alt - rock...and a sarcastic wit...and the realization that they're smarter than most of the adults they know. We have our moments, of course. She IS 14. But we've covered an enormous amount of ground in the past year, and we actually like hanging out together. I couldn't ask for more.

Incredible Friends: In many ways, The Fraud was the worst thing that ever happened to me. But when I think of what I walked away with, I can honestly say I'd do it again. April is my soul sister in a million different ways. Skip and Monika are a huge blessing, and I never would've gotten to know them well if not for The Fraud. Derek is worth a hundred MC's. Not to mention the friends I've had forever that walked through the fire with me. Ashley has actually done it a few times now. Deanna and Ian had my back at every turn. Adam lent an ear and some elbow grease helping me put things back together. So really...I am lucky, and I am thankful.

Roger: For as long as most of my friends can remember, I was the one that didn't like dogs. Then last year, I met a guy with a dog. The guy turned out to be--as one of my dear friends said--crazier than a shit-house rat, and 10 times meaner, too. But the dog...he had me smitten. And when it was all said and done, I knew my family was missing someone...it just wasn't who I thought. Now, there is a man in the house. He weighs 110 pounds and walks on all fours, and he faithfully loves us all...who would have ever imagined this year I would have a pony sized pup walking around in a red and green scarf, looking like the Sassy Gay Dog? Certainly not I....

Me: It took me about a year and a half to really like myself on my own. Maybe a little longer...but the results are far beyond any intelligent words I could express. I have changed so much, and ultimately, it's been for the better. I feel good about the people in my life. I am okay with the relationships that I outgrew, though I still care deeply for those who I lost. I learned how to let go, and how to forgive the unforgivable...both in myself and in others. More than anything...I am okay with who I am, and I am proud of who I've become...my girls respect me for being true to myself. I know that now, and I am proud of the example I set for them. They look at me and see someone who's smart and strong. (Until I see a mouse, anyway.) They see someone who admits her mistakes and learns from them. They see someone who is doing it on her own terms and doesn't need a guy to complete her or make her happy. That isn't to say there isn't someone that I love. There is...but it's just a bonus for now, because I already have a wonderful life and I'm not ready to change it in any permanent way.

This Christmas is a million miles from where I expected to be last year. I'm a different person. Many of my friends are different...I'm closer to my girls. I have a dog, a new job, and a new church. My life looks completely different. I feel a tremendous sense of peace and love. And it's only getting better. :)

Why Online Dating is a Bad Idea, Vol 2

Okay, okay...this one shouldn't even need any commentary...but that's not why any of us are here, is it? So, with that in mind...first things first. Once again, hats off to A for passing this one along and keeping me entertained on a slow afternoon. Keep them coming, my friend.

While I feel that the new school ratings system is mostly a crock of shit, clearly the education in certain places is subpar. How anyone can not recognize the difference between an auxiliary verb and a noun used to describe a penis in the morning just floors me. 

I realize, of course, that I'm referring to someone who clearly has misspelled his own name, so perhaps it should be expected. I wonder, did he get it wrong in the inquiry message or his username?

I have a question. Is punctuation becoming passe? I see this more and more, but seriously, people...it matters. Missing commas or superfluous apostrophes can totally change the meaning of a sentence. Either way...you appear far more intelligent when you demonstrate an understanding of your native language. So many people in this country are adamant about English being spoken at all times. Okay, super. If you feel that way, start with getting it right yourself. (I could spend a fair amount of time lamenting the fact that the US is pretty much the only developed country where bilingualism is not automatically taught in public schools, but I'll save that one for another time.)

Language arts are not everyone's forte, and I understand that. Some people have to work harder at it than others. Like when you're trying to make an impression on someone in an email...oh, wait...

It's not exactly a secret that the online dating pool in these parts tends to be rather shallow...that isn't to say you can't find a diamond in the rough on occasion. A is one such shining example...but it's rather like digging through the merchandise at Dollar General. 

Finally....is anyone else concerned about Derrick's (or Derrik's) two children? What happens when Dad tries to help them with their homework?

Single is Not a Disease State...

It's fall...fall is good, filled with all the things I enjoy most. Football. Cooler weather. Fireplaces. Football. Soup Sundays. Standard Time. Football. Sweaters. Boots. Football. Parties. Holidays...you get the idea. But here's the concept that continues to elude a handful of people...single people are just as entitled to the joys of the season--any season--as standard nuclear families. Or nontraditional nuclear families. Or people in serious relationships. Or anyone. Really.

I know...it seems like a no-brianer, one that was established by the likes of Bridget Jones and Carrie Bradshaw some 20 years ago, among others. But strange as it may seem, there are still some who look at my family of three--me and my girls--and see something that's incomplete. I can assure you, it's not. There are people who look at me and somehow see me as less of a person because I'm single. (Actually, I'm not single, exactly, but we'll get to that.) I'm not. There are a few people reading this right now who are inwardly (or outwardly, whatever) rolling their eyes, thinking that I'm only saying that because I don't have anyone, and if I did, I would change my tune. To them, I would say this: Just because my family and my relationship doesn't look like yours doesn't mean I'm sitting around wishing I had what you had. In fact, most of the time, the opposite is true, at least for the time being.

Just in case there's any confusion, let me tell you about my family. Of course, there's me. My girls. They're amazing, and they are, without question, my biggest accomplishment. Not my only one...they're actually one of many. But they are the biggest, hands-down. And while we get top billing in this little sitcom, the supporting cast is also stellar...I just don't live with them. My parents. My brother. Beth. Chelsea. Ashley. April. Adrienne. Amanda. Derek and Chad. Deanna an Ian. Lisa. Krystal. Sarah and Rob and Syd. Adam. And The Boy. There are others...the list is long and each person brings something important. Does my family look like yours? Nope. Is it perfect? No. And I wouldn't trade them for anything, either. Not even for a 2-carat diamond and a 4-bedroom, 3 bath house on an acre in town. Not that there's anything wrong with that. At ALL...but my family counts and is every bit as legit.

Single is relative. I don't consider myself single. I'm pretty sure L doesn't see it that way. I'm just not clamoring for a proposal or wanting to shack up anytime soon...I don't know when or if I will reach that point...with anyone. It isn't that I don't adore him. I'm just happy having my own house and my own things and my free time to spend however I want to spend it. One day, when it's right, I'm sure I'll be willing to give it up...but that's not now.

For now, I like things the way they are, and so do the girls. No one should feel sorry for me or assume I'm incomplete or unhappy being--sort of--on my own. And no one should overlook my holiday plans and assume they're unimportant, or that it's less of a Thanksgiving with only the three of us. That little Thanksgiving lunch matters to us, just as much as any family affair with a dozen people. This is our family, and it's pretty perfect the way it is. :)