The Year John Saved Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving eve we got the call from my dad.  He was too sick to cook-which he had offered to do most of.  Oh yikes.  I called John and asked if he felt overwhelmed by this and he said that he wasn't at all.  Daniel went to get the almost defrosted Turkey, and John went to Walmart for the rest.  He went after work and after climbing with Joseph-somewhere in the neighborhood of 10pm.  A holiday eve is never the time to go to Walmart.  We did it once before and things were ugly.  

He came home and prepped the pie crust and did that brine thing to the turkey.  Next morning, he got up early and finished the pie and got the turkey going.  After things got going, we went to our city's biggest race of the year.  My brothers have been running it since their high school days, trying to win first place, but coming in top 5 or so. 

This year, Daniel got 2nd place and Joseph got 10th or something like that.  I don't pay attention after the 5th spot.

On top of saving Thanksgiving, we also had to tend to Burl.  He was possibly the sickest that he's ever been.  The night before, he slept in our bed so we could keep an eye on him.  He had more snot and more congestion that I thought anyone could ever have.  Constant coughing, wiping of the nose, and a bit of whimpering.  It was pitiful and I think my brothers were ready to take him to the emergency room.  The cool air at the race and over 2,00o people to watch helped him a bit, but we eventually took him back home and got things started again.  The boys showed up later and were put to work.

Here's the thing about brothers:  they don't really get what it's like for a girl to have a baby.   Neither one knows what a contraction is-the closest they got was "doesn't it have something to do with your ovaries, no, your uterus?"  {Is it weird that I just wrote those words?  Might be weird, but I know it was funny!  Ha!}  Even though I have about the easiest recovery that I know of, it's still recovery.  So, instead of hoping that they'll just step in and help, knowing what to do and expecting them to be sensitive, I just boss them around.  Joseph-you're making mashed potatoes, Daniel-you've got the dressing.

In between nursing Fern and tending to sick Burl, I was able to get pictures of Joseph cooking.  He picked up his knife skills from these guys and tossed in the potatoes only to find that the boiling water splashes back.

I might be teasing about them, but they are actually a big help with Burl.  They love him fiercely and can make even a sick day fun with a rowdy game of slide across the floor in the laundry basket.  He loves them back.  We're pretty sure that he said "Jovah" and "Nanul" this weekend, being the first names he's said besides Mama and Dada.  

The next day we went to John's parents house.  When we pulled into the driveway and got Burl out of the car it was something like releasing a wild bull into the arena.  Six cousins, things on wheels, and a swing with John.  It was very exciting.  

John introduced Burl to the swing: a piece of wood about 6x12 inches.  It saw so much action that it broke that day-no worries.  John, Granddaddy, and Burl went to the shed and drilled another hole for another swing.  Granddaddy's shed is close to man-cave, which is close to utopia for Burl.  

On Fern watch, she lost her umbilical cord, making her ready for a little bath.  As long as she was exposed to the warm water, sista' loved her spa treatment.  Nothing like a bath to make newborn skin look all-rashy.  Oh, but look at that hair.  Fluffy and RED!  Can't wait to brush it-they sit still like a barbie doll for that, right?  

Now that Thanksgiving is passed, we're looking at December.  We're talking schedules and trees and presents for Burl.  We like Jesus too-he's kind of a big deal when it comes to Christmas.  This thanksgiving, I'm thankful for the slow pace a newborn requires.  Slow. Pace.  Words to live by.