I know it’s three days after Thanksgiving, and the rest of the world has moved past the giving of the thanks and the eating of the turkey and even the shopping of the crazy sales and has flung itself madly into the arms of Christmas. But here in the Together family, we have just returned from nearly four days away from pretty much everything except each other. Which, can I say, is a pretty darn nice way to spend Thanksgiving weekend.

This year, our family, along with my mom and dad, drove into the middle of Nebraska to church camp for Thanksgiving. Yes, I’m serious. My dad is a pastor, and the camp has a double wide trailer available for pastor’s families to stay in when they need some time away. So Thursday morning we loaded our van and station wagon with piles upon piles of bedding and food and games and clothes and toys and children and grown-ups, and after only two false starts we were on our way.

We had a wonderful time.

We walked in the woods and in the fields, over bridges and up towers.

We saw deer tracks, raccoon tracks, tractor tracks, and people tracks.

We met dogs and cats and cows and absolutely no people.

We read books, played games, took pictures, made the baby dance, and laughed until we cried.

We ate oatmeal and turkey and pie and pumpkin bread and birthday cupcakes and sandwiches. (Not all at the same time). (Although Art might have tried when we weren’t looking).

We got up early for sunrises, went out in the twilight to see the sunset, and had adventures in the great outdoors in the time in between.

We drove nowhere, answered no phone calls, spent no money, put on no makeup, checked no email.

In those brief days we packed in joy and laughter and tears and thanksgiving and good food and happy children and family traditions and inside jokes and a whole big bunch of rest and relaxation.

And we gave thanks.

And it was awesome.

*******

If you didn’t stop by my blog on Friday, you missed a seriously hilarious conversation with my boys. You should check it out.

My mom was going to color my hair last night, but she accidentally took an Ambien instead of a Claritin at 6:00 at night, so we didn’t get to play salon. Which is why I will be wearing a Santa hat for the next three weeks. We can just all pretend I’m in the Christmas spirit.

Have a great night.

We are supposed to be leaving for the middle of Nowhere, Nebraska, in forty-five minutes, and I still need a shower, but I just realized I never wrote a post for Saturday.

So, happy Saturday.

I expect this is cheating, but I am not ruining my record for the month on the twenty-eighth!

Have a wonderful weekend, and I will see you sometime tomorrow.

And then my blog shall once again be interesting, and include pictures of my adorable turkeys celebrating Thanksgiving in the middle of Nowhere, Nebraska.

Me: Okay boys, we are gonna talk about Thanksgiving. I have some questions for you. Stinky, why do we have Thanksgiving?

Stinky: I don’t know. I don’t know really (laughs).

Bubs: I know the answer but I’m not telling.

Me: Well why do you think we might have Thanksgiving?

Stinky: To show respect to people? I don’t know.

Bubs: yeah, that sort of goes with the subject, but not really.

Me: Think about the name of it, Stinky. What words do you hear in Thanks giving?

Stinky: Thanks and giving.

Me: So what do you think Thanksgiving is for?

Stinky: To show how much you appreciate them?

Me: Who?

Stinky: The other people.

Me: What other people?

Stinky: The people that don’t really get to celebrate Thanksgiving.

Me: Bubs, can you tell me about the very first Thanksgiving?

Bubs: The Pilgrims came to an island, but it was part of America, and they lived there for about a year, but then at winter a lot of them died by a sickness which I do not know what it was, and a year later– the year after that– they waited all year and then it was Thanksgiving. Well, they celebrated Thanksgiving. And um, Governor Carver and Chief Massasoit were the rulers of the Indians and Pilgrims, and Governor Carver had asked Chief Massasoit to bring just a couple of his Indian friends but he showed up with 90 Indians. And then they started cooking and it took them a long time to cook because they were– it was hard to cook then– they didn’t have like ovens and that kind of stuff to cook turkey? Well, I don’t know, they might have. And then, they ate for a day, but the real Thanksgiving took three days to get all the stuff gone. And that’s the end. And can I answer Stinky’s question, because I know the answer.

Me: (typing furiously) Just a minute.

Bubs: Listen to this Stinky, because mom said I can answer your question so listen. It goes with the thanks and the giving.

Me: Okay, Bubs, why do we have Thanksgiving?

Bubs: To give thanks to God and give to other people. Mostly giving thanks.

Me: So we have Thanksgiving so we can give thanks to God. Stinky, what are some things you can be thankful for?

Stinky: Let me think . . . oh yeah. Our family. Bubs. And I actually like you. . . love you too. So you have to write down Erin. And I also love Daddy? And Little One? And that’s pretty much it. That’s all I can think of.

Me: What about you Bubs?

Bubs: I’m thankful for God sending Jesus to die on the cross, and I’m thankful for God and family and grandparents and I’m thankful for teachers and the church and stuff He gave us to enjoy and blessings. And that’s about it.

Me: Stinky, do you think we should only be thankful on Thanksgiving?

Stinky: (shaking head) Every day.

Me: Why?

Stinky: Because that’s showing respect for God.

Me: Bubs, what’s your favorite Thanksgiving food?

Bubs: I like squash. I just like to eat squash and sweet potatoes that look like the squash. And you know that like orange red thingy that grandma makes? That has like oranges in it? Cranberry stuff. Oranges, cranberries.

Me: Cranberry relish?

Bubs: Yeah, I like that too.

Stinky: do you like the turkey?

Bubs: Well it’s chewy. I like stuff that’s easy and juicy to chew. Like apples.

Me: Stinky, what’s your favorite t food?

Stinky: I like turkey and squash.That’s pretty much it.

Me: Boys, are you thankful for your brother?

Stinky: Yeah?

Bubs: Yeah? I forgot to mention it. Well I did, because I said family and that means Mommy, Daddy, Little One, Rosie, Stinky . . . so I did say it.

Me: Hey boys, I love you.

Bubs: Me too. Stinky, do you love Mommy?

Stinky: Yes I do.

Psalm 100
A Psalm for giving thanks

 Shout for joy to the LORD, all the earth.

 Worship the LORD with gladness;
come before Him with joyful songs.

 Know that the LORD is God.
It is He who made us, and we are His;
we are His people, the sheep of His pasture.

 Enter His gates with thanksgiving
and His courts with praise;
give thanks to Him and praise His name.

 For the LORD is good and His love endures forever;
His faithfulness continues through all generations.

I had big plans to write a poetic post enumerating all the reasons I am thankful, but honestly, I think the Psalmist said it best.

May your Thanksgiving day be filled with loved ones, good food, and many, many reasons to be thankful.

And the kids, they were thankful for Grandpa’s Christmas train.

And it’s possible that, in spite of the fact that it squeaked and played “Santa Claus Is Coming to Town” in a distressingly loud way, Mommy was thankful for it too.

Because for five minutes, it kept Little One out of the dog’s dish. And these days, that’s all it takes to make a mommy a little more thankful.

Have a happy Thanksgiving, everyone.

(In a clear attempt to detox me, my family is taking me out of wireless range for the next few days. I have some posts scheduled to run in my absence, but I won’t be around again till Sunday. And I will miss you guys. Have a great weekend!)

It’s 11:30 at night. I’m tired. I have a bajillion things to do tomorrow. And I have nothing to write about.

But never fear, gentle readers. Having nothing to talk about has never before prevented me from going on and on, and you can rest assured that I shall live up to my reputation tonight.

See, it’s November 24. Day 24 of blogging every single day. In less than a week, if I keep it up, I will have met one of my goals– which was to blog every day in a month.

So lack of content is certainly not going to stop me now.

Therefore, having nothing of importance to tell you, I shall tell you a story from my childhood.

Once upon a time, I was a ten-year-old brat with a big mouth and a penchant for sticking my even bigger feet into it. I hadn’t quite learned the lesson that you can’t just fire off your mouth at anyone who walks by. My parents were very patient with me in this regard. In fact, joking around and being sarcastic was a part of my family’s daily conversation. Sometimes it’s hard for a kid to remember that just because you can say something to your mom or dad, who love you and know that you’re really not just a snotfaced kid asking for trouble, doesn’t mean that you can say that same thing to every adult.

I was at church camp for the week.

(Ah, the happy memories of church camp. A whole week without showering. Yum.)

(Don’t tell my mom I once went a whole week at church camp without showering.)

(Oh, Hi Mom!)

(While I’m confessing, I also lived off fried cheese balls and Three Musketeers bars, because camp food was gross.)

We were lined up outside the dining hall, waiting for the camp director to stop lecturing us about something so that we could go in for dinner. And I was hungry. And also a snotfaced kid.

So I said, under my breath, except not very under it, “Okay, we get it, hurry up.”

I know. I was such a brat. And of course he called me on it.

Except he didn’t exactly call me on it. What he did was pull me up in front of the entire group, tell them that I couldn’t keep my mouth under control, and inform them that for the rest of the week they were to call me Motormouth.

I know, right? That kind of thing could get me fired from my job.

(He didn’t work at the camp much longer, but I don’t think it had anything to do with the motormouth thing.)

(Although my dad was pretty mad.)

I know a lot of kids that would be absolutely devastated if someone said something like that to them. Kids who would feel the sting of mockery– finish out the week brokenhearted and never wanting to return to camp.

Ha.

See, what Mr. Mean Director Man didn’t know is that I have a sense of humor. (Which clearly he was lacking, I’m just saying).  Some things never change, you know? And twenty-odd years ago, when Mr. Mean Director Man told everyone to call me Motormouth, I thought it was funny. I didn’t care if they called me that. I kind of liked the attention. And I loved all the people telling me they thought he was mean and refusing to call me that.

I still love attention. And validation. I’m needy like that.

(Just ask my poor husband.)

So for a few days at camp, I was Motormouth.

And then I went home and took a shower (finally), and shook all the sand out of my suitcase onto the basement floor, and showed off my awesome soap carving of an unidentifiable object.

And then I was just Erin again.

Except I was Erin with a random summer camp story to share in the middle of the night twenty years later when I really needed something to write.

So now you know the truth.

Even as a kid, I had issues shutting up.

(What’s the blog equivalent of Motormouth? Motorfingers?)

We met on a scrapbooking message board, in a thread I started years ago. It began as a place to share your “true confessions,” but over time it evolved into a haven of friendship. I called them my TC Girls, and we shared our lives– the good and bad and funny and weird and creepy and disgusting and messy and awesome. We exchanged addresses and Christmas cards; added one another as friends on facebook; became deeply involved in each other’s lives. People thought I was strange for calling these women my friends– these people I had never met.

But I knew better.

When I lost Elijah nearly two years ago, these dear ladies wept with me. They rallied round and showered my family with love– cards, gifts, prayers. Their love and support– often in the middle of the night when no one else could talk– was one of the things that brought me through those darkest days.

Though our relationships have changed– though we have had drama and loss and heartache and seen people come and go– they are still my dear, dear TC girls.

And now, we walk the valley of shadow again.

One of the TC Girls passed away this morning– suddenly, unexpectedly. She was not old; she was not ill.

Yesterday she ordered Christmas gifts online for her daughters. Today she is gone.

I miss her already.

It’s so trite– but sometimes we need to hear the truth, whether it seems trite or not.

We only have this moment. We are not guaranteed another day, another hour.

Hug your babies. Call your friends. Tell your husband you love him. Take your children for a walk. Put your change in the kettle. Read the Bible. Be the person you hope to be someday. Smile. Laugh. Live.

Today, I am unwrapping this moment– this precious gift from God. It’s all I have.

We love you and miss you Diane. Thanks for the reminder to cherish each moment.

1. My middle name is Jo. If I had been born on my grandpa’s birthday, my name would have been ErinJo Frances (Francis? I’m really not sure). I’ve always been kinda thankful I wasn’t born on my grandpa’s birthday. No offense, Grandpa.

2. I have cupcakes on my pajamas.

3. Today Stinky spent a good portion of his afternoon hanging a little Christmas stocking in various places around the house so they could celebrate Christmas. The computer chair, the light by my chair, and the light switch by the door all got in on the Christmas spirit.

4. Today I wrote a blog entry for later in the week that is awesome. My kids are the best.

5. (I have to write them now because I’m going to be away from the internets from Thursday through Sunday. And I might just die from lack of facebookage.)

6. I am so sick of all the hype about a certain movie that just came out that I shall call “Old Sun,” that I literally kind of want to scream every time anyone talks about it or whenever I see a movie poster with Cedric Diggory on it. He shall always be Cedric Diggory to me, no matter what the evil “Old Sun” people do to him. Sparkles. pffft.

7. I’m going to have to get up really early tomorrow to make some sort of dessert item for my son’s lunchbox. Because it was much more entertaining to play Scramble this afternoon than to work in the kitchen.

8. I really need to go to the bathroom but I don’t want to get up till I’m done with this blog entry. I’m so lazy.

9. Eggnog is good. I’m pretty sure I’ve gained 5 pounds just having it in the house.

10. I’m so pumped because I only have to work at the daycare two days this week. I love holidays. And not just for the pie. <3

And now . . . to the bathroom!

Step One: Dress baby up in cute clothes for the occasion. (This picture cracks. me. up.)

Step Two: Obsessively take pictures of the baby while poor husband sets up tree by himself.

Step Three: Add three strings of colored lights to the prelit white-light tree because the children have decided they want colored lights.

Step Four: Take picture of oldest child’s painful cheese grin.

Step Five: Take blurry picture of baby checking out the Christmas tree. (Notice that our tree is on a table this year. We’ve never had a mobile baby this young at Christmas before. It required some modification of our normal Christmas tree arrangement. We’ll see if it helps.)

Step Six: Take really blurry picture of the extremely wound-up dog.

Step Seven: Put ornaments on the tree. (Crazed sugar-high-Christmas-rush grin is optional).

(Be sure to cry when you put that one ornament on). (Or am I the only one who cries every year about one certain ornament?)

(Notice that I dressed for the occasion in my festive Christmas sweater).

Work together to get the job done right!

Step Eight: Add quirky snowman tree topper.

Step Nine: Let baby check out the tree. Take blurry picture of the exciting event.

Step Ten: Decide to take adorable picture of all the children in front of the tree.

(But not until after you have changed baby into pajamas. Add jaunty Santa hat and hope no one notices. Then proceed to point your failure out to the internets).

(Why do my sons behave like crazed lunatics when I try to take their picture?)

Step Eleven: Decide you’ve had enough family fun for one evening.

The End.

I need to start writing posts like this more often, because it seems like every day I read something that I think everyone should read. I think sharing links on the weekends is fabulous, because it gives me more time to pretend to catch up on all the housework I didn’t do this weekend. Ha!

This post at Small Notebook about non-clutter gifts is an old post I bookmarked back in April, but I think with Christmas inexorably approaching it’s a great read.

I read this this morning and it spoke to me. Good stuff about God’s plan for your kids, versus our ideas about success.

If you plan on buying gifts at amazon.com this Christmas, you should check this out.

I know I saw more cool stuff than that this week, but we are going to be putting up the tree this afternoon, so I should probably clean out all my junk from in front of the window so we have a place to put the tree.

Hopefully I’ll be on later tonight with adorable pictures of our adorable children decorating for Christmas.