Sunday, January 3, 2010

"okay, everybody, i'm getting out the pies!"

I'm having a really hard time falling back into a blogging routine. I think it's all the sugar. My sister and I were text-messaging each other on Christmas Eve on the way to my Grandma and Grandpa's place. (Don't worry, Oma was driving. And yes, my sister and I were in the same car.) Anyway, one of my messages said that I had exceeded my maximum sugar limit; she didn't know such a thing existed. Just an FYI, it's approximately 5% of my total body weight.

Speaking of my sister, she did the sweetest thing ever. She made my blog into a book. I KNOW, RIGHT? She said she only printed the best ones, skipping "all the ones where you go on about your medical problems." She also brought it to my attention that I consistently spell etc wrong. And O - M - G she is right! How did I never notice that? She said she was going to make me a spelling list; I told her to BRING IT ON. This is a serious issue, dear friends. Frequently misspelled words = no good. I think it's because I never read anymore. Hmmm, maybe I need a resolution.

What was I saying again? Oh, blogging. Christmas. Oma, Opa, Auntie, Punkin, and I made the trip to my grandparent's place for Christmas. But instead of staying at their condo, we booked a cheap hotel. Meaning, of course, that it was a very nice hotel at a low cost because my mother is savvy; not that it was a place where the local crazies hang out. (Although Auntie was there....)

Anyway, Punkin was all about the hotel: it had lots of beds and a swimming pool. A SWIMMING POOL. That pool had such an impact on him that when we got back home and went to occupational therapy, Punkin told his therapist that we went swimming. This is major people; he recounted an activity from the past. The kid can't tell me what he ate for breakfast! It's one of his IEP goals this year, so I'm feeling hopeful that he'll achieve it.

And speaking of rooms with beds, I really need to tell you about when we went bed shopping back in the fall. Holy cats, it was better than an amusement park! I mean, amusement parks don't have bunk beds or low beds or beds with slides OR lots of pillows and blankets to play the Night Night Game. Really, Punkin's heaven may be a child's bed store with a ball pit in one corner and a Hot Wheels City along one wall. But I digress.

Christmas. After spending some time with my mom's side of the family, we came home for a few days before leaving for the annual hullabaloo with my dad's side. It's amazing that anyone maintains their sanity during this four-day food extravaganza. Let me explain.

My father has 5 siblings (with and 18 year age difference between the oldest and youngest) who are all married with children. A few of us (like myself) have children of our own. All together we equal 31 individuals; 24 of us made the trip this year. We rented a lodge retreat house this year instead of cramming into someone's house, which made moving around much less painful. That said, the activity level reached soaring heights. One movie played on the main television while Punkin watched Monster's Inc 211 times on his portable player, two people occupied the Scrabble board at all times, my sister dragged an unsuspecting cousin or five into playing a game every 10 minutes, and those cousins (and 2 uncles) who weren't playing BORED games shifted between rounds of Nerf Wars, Wii, and Coaster Golf (aka: Frisbee Golf with croched coasters found next to the couch).

Everyone has an unspoken role at this gathering. It is my Aunt KG's job, for example, to bring the cutout cookies made with three parts butter, two parts sugar, and one part vanilla. It is my Aunt L's job to boycott all of the BORED games with me. Aunt KL tells funny stories about my great aunts, and all of them are inclined to squeal over old pictures of each other with 80's hair.

My Aunt J's job is to bring the pies, and she is a master. Now, I've had several bad experiences with food as a child that have haunted me for a long time. For example, I cannot bring myself to eat chicken pot pie as every time I see it I remember the time I was ill on the couch watching It's a Wonderful Life when my sister spilled the contents of her steaming hot chicken and vegetable pastry all over the floor and her lap, scalding her legs. It was like a badly reenacted vomit scene, and it stuck with me.

My fruit pie story is similar; my friend showed me her apple pie on the bus and I proceeded to run inside the school and barf. I swore off all pies except pumpkin and chocolate mouse from that day on.

Until January 1, 2010 when a slice of peach blueberry looked so colorful, so delightfully tart and simultaneously sweet in the pie plate -- just waiting for me --that I took a bite. My world will never be the same and my pants may never fit again.

5 comments:

Umma said...

Pumpkin and chocolate mouse? Are you still traumatized by the Great Mouse Invasion of 2009?

the other lion said...

HAHAHA! I am. I'm not going to change it. That's too funny!

Punkin's Oma said...

You forgot to mention that many of the 211 times Monster's Inc was on, it was playing on the big TV for all to watch.
And... David again led the group in exercises. DANCE, HANDS, RUN, JUMP, SPIN, HANDS... Amazing what he can get people to do. Very funny.
And one of BORED games involved you yelling and laughing. hmmm.

1 Special Family said...

LOL! We have that type of huge family gathering in the summertime. I always wondered what a person would think if he just walked up and looked in the window. He'd probably be the one traumatized!

Aunt Jan H. said...

I'm nearly in tears over the sweet tribute to my pie. I'm so glad you enjoyed it. Now when we get together with you (remember the resolution?), I'll have to bring a pie like I do when I go to the K's in WI.