This year geography prevents my doing a whole Norman Rockwell thing for Thanksgiving. I am in NY and most of my family is in LA, so spending the holiday with my six younger siblings and our thirteen children is, unfortunately, not happening. But showering family with culinary affection isn’t how I think we should be measuring the value on this holiday of thanks.
So what sets the barometer for the love and blessings in our lives? Is it how much we do for others as mandated by June Cleaver, Kay Jeweler or Martha Stewart?
My new standard has been set by Sue Sylvester, who showed us on this week’s Glee, first and foremost, we need to show affection for ourselves. Thankfulness needs to be a constant, from the inside out, not when I’ve overstuffed from the outside in.
Don’t get me wrong, I am grateful for all of the holiday trappings and most of the time enjoy them immensely. But I can pick up organic cranberries on any given day, having no particular attachment to the last Thursday in November. A once-a-year event heralded by Hallmark, my mother and the annual airing of Wizard of Oz does not a happy Diva-Mama make. Trust me, nothing can kill the holiday spirit of gratefulness faster than when I am ready to collapse. When the smoke starts to pour out of my ears, the kids know to take cover.
So this year I decided to make some new traditions that honor my needs and not just everyone else’s.
For starters, I’ll be creating culinary magic on Friday. The small horde I’ll be feeding in my new place will consist of my children, awesome boyfriend, his cool kids, dad and brothers. To get ready I gave my darling a “honey-do” list and believe me, honey did.
I anticipated tomorrow’s gluttonous glee, by making sure to treat myself to a slice of new-age heaven. This past week I had an amazing Akashic record reading followed by a sacred chant workshop. Tomorrow, right after popping my eco-Kosher pasture raised organic birds in the oven, I will dash down to my favorite exercise class (see my earlier blog “Stretching Past Your Toes” for a taste of what makes it my favorite weekly activity) to accrue some much-needed caloric burn in anticipation of the afternoon’s festivities.
The moral of the holiday story, my dear domestic Goddesses, is to satiate yourself first! Your family will thank you for it and who knows, you may end up feeling so great you won’t dry out the turkey this year!
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