Cheesy pasta with meat sauce on top. YUM!

crescent rolls with cream cheese filling. WONDERFUL!

Well, we have a good holiday under our belts. YAY!

We came to three conclusions. 1: I need to always cook for us because no one cooks like mama 🙂 and 2: Brussel sprouts do not belong on the TG table when a person travels! lol Seriously, the food wasn’t that good and now I have to cook our turkey breast and favorites for us. Steve said it’s a sad note when the cheesy pasta is the best dish at the gathering. And 3: don’t buy a Turducken pre-made. Blah. There was not a good dish of stuffing in the house and there were 4 huge pans. This year, it’s not gonna be us stuck eating that shit! We carried a couple of to-go containers of leftovers that I picked out for my girls and that is all we took with us. Last year, the family gifted us with all the crap no one liked and since we had nothing, we ate it. This year, we had a casserole waiting at home (yes, cheesy pasta) and today after Steve tackles the pots and pans, I will cook for us! We have a corn casserole, greenbean casserole, stuffing, sweet potatoes with marshmallows, regular mashed potatoes, gravy, turkey breast, cranberry sauce, pumpkin cake with apple glaze, and a condiment tray. We don’t mind left overs when they are yummy. G will get his cinnamon rolls for breakfast, and before the weekend is over I’ll sneak in pumpkin and mincemeat pies.

To top the day off, my daughter received her 1st yr chip/medallion from AA. In a room full of raggedy young people who most likely had no place else to go judging from their circle ‘stories’, it was announced to be her ‘birthday’ and she teared up and said thank you, and the meeting was over. Everyone hugged her and she was crying, and then everyone hugged me and Geoffrey and expressed the most heartfelt thank you for being here’s I’ve ever felt. Jessica was there and Kayla, her wife; and KC, Kaiha’s girlfriend, Taryn, me and G. Steve drove us, and waited in the truck with his book and flashlight. I can’t drive at night, and he drove me – and that was it. He wasn’t rude. He kept his good mood. He spoke when they spoke to him and they left him alone because that’s what he wanted. We drove home and finished out a very nice night watching Leave It to Beaver re-runs.
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On a side note, I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about the last exchange I had with my mom. It took me all these years to realize the valium and alcohol she consumed is why she doesn’t remember the things I remember from growing up. She said she did not have nervous break downs. Her second one, was the reason I couldn’t finish high school. Her first was the reason we had a live in babysitter. I mean, Mrs Clyburn was a blessing to our lives. We loved her and she made me love thread crochet, and I am still friends with her granddaughter, but come on…my mother rewrites the history and blames it on me.I was her oldest child and I remember her shit. And when she did the “I don’t know who’s house YOU grew up in amber, but it wasn’t mine.” I called her on it, gave her a link to what the alcohol and valium do when mixed and said my piece, and blocked her. She does that bat her eyes innocent thing and everybody rallies around the missionary, and I am left out in the cold with no one – and then, when I was talking to Kate, not about anything in particular, she said she felt that I was crying inside for validation. We weren’t even talking about anything near this. She reminded me that she’s an empath – damn, she’s good. Last night, listening to the kids in the room with my daughters, I realized the thing they all were lacking was validation. One young man had pin-pointed it very well. I remember being 9 yrs old and I looked in the mirror, and I saw this piece of hair that sticks up – it still sticks up today. I took scissors back then and cut it off, against my scalp, and she went ballistic and accused me of disfiguring myself. All I was, was a little girl, wanting to fix her hair. Mama and I have replayed THAT scenario over and over all our lives. Me, saying or doing something, and she, responding like I was coming from the worst place inside me. We’ve never shed that pattern. For the first time in my life, I’m ready to not disect it, and to let it be what it is. It became my problem because I wanted that validation from my mommy that never came. I wonder how much of that carried to my kids and became the building blocks for their addictions? It’s quite a series of thoughts if you entertain it. It’s lifted it’s head a few times. I really don’t want to dig deep and mess with it. Not today anyway. I’m just putting it here so I don’t forget.