Epiphany

I had an epiphany this weekend.

My family has been participating in an annual event out of obligation, expectation, and tradition.

But, being The Parents, we get to decided what type of family traditions we get to do in our own home. Right? I mean, seriously. Just because our parents did things a particular way doesn't mean we are in any way shape or form obligated to do it that way too.

And this weekend, I decided this was the last traditional Thanksgiving dinner I will cook.

It's not the holiday itself. Believe me when I tell you I am thankful for a LOT. Like being able to afford the anti-seizure medications my older son is on. Like surviving breast cancer. Like having a husband that survived tonsil cancer. Like our amazing community who has supported us through all of my family's major health issues. We are incredibly thankful for the roof over our heads and reliable vehicles. Heat. That's kinda important. Food. Running water. Both are vital. So, it's not that I'm not or we're not finding ways to express gratitude or teach our children to be thankful. Gratitude. Check.

What gets me is the amount of planning and time and energy and money and logistics that goes into making a meal for only four people and knowing that not everyone is even going to taste everything because everyone has food anxiety and texture issues and ultimately I need to take care of me and my stress and making a huge meal is really really REALLY stressful.

So I'm done.

Mac and Cheese Maker

It's not that I don't enjoy cooking, because I do. Cooking for my family is one of the things that brings me a tremendous amount of joy, it is something I truly love doing. The secret ingredient is always love. Well, sometimes when my kids are acting like jackasses, I throw in a little hate. But mostly I cook with love. Mostly.

And because autism runs rampant in our home, and because each of us has food issues, I've learned over the years how to accommodate who has what food issue. Because that's just what you do, right?

Right.

But I've also learned that I'm done making certain accommodations around food for each of the individuals in my home. I'm not a short order cook. I was. But no longer. Will I still puree the onions? Totally. But, you can pick out the mushrooms brown peas if you don't like them. I do. Learn to eat around things, kids, you'll thank me later.

Part of this is where each of my kids are developmentally. For the past several months, we've been implementing the "cook your own lunch" method on the weekend. And so the boys have stepped up. My older son, who is developmentally disabled, is now able to cook his own Annie's Mac and Cheese on the stove, including draining the pasta into the colander that is in the sink (and my heart is in my throat every.single.time.). And my younger son, who is so developmentally advanced that he intentionally failed the testing for the highly capable program, chooses to make a homemade quesadilla on the griddle. In his defense, he grates his own cheddar cheese.

Mashed Potato King

Rule number one: One boy in the kitchen at a time.

Rule number two: You may not light the stove or turn on the oven.

Rule number three: Stay safe: use the timer (prevent a fire) and use oven mitts or hot pads (prevent a burn).

Rule number four: Either Mom or Dad supports and helps. And if Mom or Dad need to move in fast, you move outta the way faster.

I think when we start to have contempt for something, it means we're done with it. For years, I've been feeling contempt towards cooking on Thanksgiving, but didn't even realize it until my younger son said at the beginning of the month: "I don't like Thanksgiving because we always fight."

Thanks kid. Knife to the heart. At least he spoke his truth.

Well, the holidays are stressful. But why? Because I have always made the decisions about what we're going to eat on Thanksgiving. And I'm tired of that. What am I teaching them about food if I don't involve them in the decisions about what to eat? What am I teaching them about food if I do all the cooking? What am I teaching them about gender issues if I do all the shopping, planning, prepping and cooking? Because I'm not their bitch. I'm their mother. And I'm a Health Educator. What's the healthiest thing to teach them? If I get them to buy in to this meal from the beginning, will they have a different level of appreciation?

Perhaps.

Randy's Granny's cornbread dressing recipe

A couple of weeks before Thanksgiving, the four of us planned the menu together. We ended up with nine dishes, and I, being the Head Chef, made six of those. Nathan chose Annie's Mac and Cheese (obviously). Isaac picked mashed potatoes: he scrubbed, peeled, cut, and mashed. I supervised and suffered with the small burns from the scalding hot water drained the potatoes. Randy made his Granny's cornbread dressing. This is important because I have her handwritten recipe on a scrap of green paper that she wrote down for me like 20 years ago, and in September she left this earth to be with her Lord and Savior. I am thankful she chose to share her recipe with me.


So we cooked and we ate lunch about 1 and then we ate leftovers for dinner at 5:30. And then my family was done with Thanksgiving. So, like many Americans who are stuck with a shit ton of leftovers, I'm trying to be creative and clever and hitting trusted sites for leftover recipes...and it's going ok. But really, my family would be happier if I just roasted a chicken and made mashed potatoes for Thanksgiving dinner, and then we had the same thing on Friday night. And then we moved on to an entirely new dinner on Saturday and Sunday.

For the record, this is the best recipe we found for leftovers: Thanksgiving Leftover Hand Pies is the official title at Campbell's. However, in my home, these are called "Thing-a-ma-jigs" which was nominated by the 8-year-old, and voted on with three yeas and one nay.

Thing-a-ma-jigs

And of course, I had to modify the recipe, because everyone's got a texture issue and some people despise cranberry sauce.

But, whatever. I'm done with cooking that big of a meal and dealing with insane amounts of leftovers that create even more stress that force me to "create" better tasting bullshit that they just ate yesterday. The max I can get out of one night of cooking is two meals. Two dinners. Unless it's tacos. Duh.

Ultimately, I have to make healthy choices for myself and how to best spend my time. By choosing to not make a traditional Thanksgiving meal out of some imaginary obligation I have to my family is a healthier choice for me.

This Thanksgiving has provided me a time of reflection and an opportunity to decide what my priority is: be happy.