Christian or Catholic?

It's been a while since I've been called to speak my mind in the blogosphere (do they still use that word....did they ever....I have a teenager and I'd hate to be uncool on the interwebs).  Generally speaking I can be irritated by a number of things in any given week, but my newfound outlet for my frustrations (thank you Park Road Montessori family!) has relieved me from speaking my mind in the form of the written word.  This week, however, the frustrations have affected my child.  In other words....stand back, bitches.  

My middle child.  My sensitive child.  My worry wart.  The child that hears one of her friends slightly hint that her parents are maybe, possibly considering a word that could have perhaps sounded like the word divorce (they aren't) and spends months eyeballing me and her father to make sure we aren't headed down the maybe, possibly road that almost could sound like the word divorce (we aren't).  

This week my sensitive child was asked if she was Catholic or Christian.  And unfortunately her BFF, Sister Mary Phoebe, wasn't present to school the girls my child was having a seemingly innocent conversation with in the complete NON difference between Catholics and Christians.  Later that night both me and my husband- the man who identifies with no religion but has the intelligence to understand how they work - reassured our daughter that she was both Catholic AND Christian.  In fact she was so Christian that she was part of one of the oldest religions of Christianity.  

Later that week, despite the filters I impose on my Facebook newsfeed that weed out the ignorant banter of those who couldn't tell their butt from a rat hole, I was suddenly faced with an ugly reality I had no idea existed.  There are people who don't consider Catholics to be Christian.  Before responding from the heart I did what I always do....research.  First stop was my faithful Catholic friends - one explained how southern churches of different denominations - mostly Protestant - actually told their congregations that Catholics were not Christian.  And then I googled it.  They do preach it.  They also don't back it up with anything that makes sense so there's that.  

As Catholics we pray to Jesus.  We pray to God.  We pray to Mary.  We pray to loved ones who have passed on.  We pray for the intercession of Saints.  Personally -  I absolutely adore the Saints!  In my mom's family we all have our favorite Saints.  Mine is St. Jude - he prays for hopeless cases :-)  My great grandmother's Saint was St. Anthony and I have her St. Anthony statue.  Saint Nicolas? Santa Claus.  See what I mean?  Saints are awesome.  And they are all Biblically relevant because the Bible says it's cool to pray to angels and those who have passed on.  

So here's the thing - if you want to 'pray' for me, that's nice.  We can all take as many prayers as our fellow man can muster.  Have you seen the world lately?  Two mass shooting a day now?  Y'all know I work in a school, right?  But if your prayers are begging your God to make me change my religion then it's quite possible we don't need to be friends anymore.  

No, I am not compelled by my religion to preach Jesus to everyone I see.  In fact I am taught not to. No, I am not compelled by my religion to "turn' everyone who isn't like me to be like me.  In fact I am taught to accept everyone.  I am Christian but clearly I am not like you.  

So please....save your prayers.  I believe in Jesus.  I believe he died for my sins. I believe in one holy, Catholic and Apostolic Church.  Unlike you I actually believe that because I'm who I am and believe what I do that I am the only one to be saved.  I believe you will be saved.  

So pray for me if you are with me.  But don't pray for me if you want to change me.  Because that means you want to change my middle child.  My sensitive child.  My child of God.  Reach within your soul and realize that we are all children of God, but not the same.  And that's ok.  

And hear me now....if you can't accept that....we are not friends.  I will say a prayer for you but it will not be my life's prayerful work to change you.  And please don't think your constant prayer for changing me makes you a better person because in the end - none of us know what God really wants. You sit there and assume based on your limited knowledge of the Bible - a book written by a bunch of dudes trying to keep up with a history that was in a constant state of flux. 

Pray for me.  But do not pray for me to change religions.  When you pray for me to forget the Saints - you pray for me to change religions.  When you pray for me to stop praying to Mary - you pray for me to change religions.  When you pray for me to alter my beliefs- you pray for me to change religions.  

I am friends with Jewish people, Catholic people, Baptist people, Lutheran people, Episcopal people, Presbyterian people.....I don't judge my friends.  I make friends with people I like.  I don't give two shits what religion they follow.  If they are good people - they are good people.  End of story.  

So pray for me. But don't pray for me to be like you.  

Kardashians Smardashians

Apparently Kim Kardashian (or one of them...honestly I don't care enough to keep track of who said what) said that she asked her mom for birth control because she intended to have sex with her boyfriend, and she did just that at age 14.  I know, I know. Your first thought is 'How could her mom support that!!!!' or "Stupid, nasty Kardashians!" or 'Hollywood!! BLECH!!!!' or my personal favorite "Free love!!!!"  Wait...wrong era....

Let's get something straight - I, in no way, want to be in a position where my 14 year old needs birth control.  I've got three girls up in here and I don't want to deal with this crap unless it's absolutely necessary.  But more than that I don't want to be a grandmother before my time.

So when is it absolutely necessary?

When your daughter asks for it.

Make no mistake - I'd love to have three blissful virgins until the day when my husband hands them over to their betrothed, in a ceremony we like to call a wedding.  I also know it's 2012, and I certainly didn't walk down that aisle an 'unknown' woman (sorry Mom and Dad - true fact).  What I want is for them to have enough respect for themselves and enough faith in the person that they chose to make adult decisions.  Fact is, kids make adult decisions before they're legally adults or biologically adults anyway.  So why is this any different?

According to Dr. Phil, a man I hold near and dear to my psychiatric heart, says the human brain doesn't reach maturity until 25.  And the last part to reach maturity is the very part that dictates the common sense part of the brain. The part that says 'Hey, dumbass - you can't drive after ten shots!' or 'You might should wrap a condom around that lessen you want a little part to deal with'.

Twenty-five.

I'm currently 39 and I know that every move I make, every smile I fake, my mom is watching me.  I also know that at 39 I'm WAY wiser than 25.  I can only imagine what my brain size will be at 65.  It'll be positively creepy.  Downright Phineas and Ferb with a brain ray.  Smarter?  No.  Wiser?  Yes.

Here's the thing, folks - wise only comes with EXPERIENCE.  Not with AGE.  If you're dumb as a rock and you spend your life with rocks, at 103 you'll still be as dumb as a rock.  Sad, but true facts.

I have learned enough in my time to let my girls make their own decisions, to guide them as I see fit, and to support them indefinitely.  Even if they're making the wrong choice, my job is to advise and step back.  As painful as it is - my job is to support, to advice, to listen, and to protect.

PROTECT.

Some may see this word as endless hovering so they keep their children from having sex before their wedding night.  I see it as supporting their decisions, listening to their feelings (because as I'm sure you will all remember - TEENAGE FEELINGS are real, hard, new, intense, and impossible to sort out) and being there when they decide (at ANY age) that they think they're ready for sex, and supplying them with not only the support and knowledge that they need, but the medicinal help that will protect them.

Do not be foolish parents.  You were once a teenager.  As Spock said in Wrath of Kahn...... REMEMBER.

Are You Mom Enough?

Unless you live under a rock you have no doubt seen the cover of Time magazine with the 3 year old boy nursing.  The picture is obviously staged to invoke controversy and sell multiple copies.  While some people have trained their eyes on the picture, I was consumed by the headline.  "Are You Mom Enough?"  I will go on record stating that I have not read the article but I have a pretty good idea what it says.  I've seen the mom on The Today Show and I've heard her story about why she continues to breastfeed her son.  And honestly - I don't care.  I guess I do have a personal time limit where I start to think 'Yeah...uh...that's getting weird...' but 3 years old isn't it.  Not that I ever signed up for it myself too far beyond the first year but I don't care what anybody else does.  My problem is with the title.

Are you mom enough to be an extreme breastfeeder?  Are you mom enough to be a follower of attachment parenting? Are you mom enough to stand on the cover of Time magazine with half a boob hanging out?  Whatever they want you to be mom enough for - I don't like it.  And since it's a piece on attachment parenting and breastfeeding I'm not exactly thrilled with the cut to those that don't breastfeed or actually put their baby in a crib every once in a while. 

Here's where I stand on parenting - FOR ME - I have three girls and I breastfed each of them for a little over a year each.  The middle one actually breastfed longer because I turned up pregnant before her first birthday and I lacked the patience or energy to 'unboob' her.  I suppose you could call me 'attachment parenting lite'.  I fed on demand.  I watched the baby, not the clock.  I put my newborns in a cradle right by the side of my bed so I could either feed or soothe throughout the night.  I used a sling, but I also used a stroller.  I made dinner with a baby on my hip, but I also had no problem in putting my 9 month old in her highchair and letting her chase Cheerios around her tray for a while.  I had one baby who willingly took a bottle of heated breast milk, one who vehemently denied the arms of anyone who wasn't me (and thus a bottle or a pacifier for that matter), and one who actually accepted bottles of formula when I couldn't produce a bottle of breast milk for her when I decided I wanted to take a quilting class.  All three of my babies took naps in my lap because their infancy coincided with a new release of a Harry Potter book -and letting them nap on my chest allowed me to read longer. 

To be honest - attachment parenting allowed me to be my lazy self.  I never got up at 3 a.m. to heat up a bottle, I never stumbled across the house to my baby's room to feed them in the middle of the night, and I never sat around listening to my 2 month old cry because I was trying to 'train' them.  Because I read every book Dr. Sears put out I know what his methods are.  I also know that it's not one size fits all. And because babies are not one size fits all his methods made sense.  He told us that what works with one baby doesn't work with another.  He gave us the permission to find out who we are as a parent and who our babies are - because as a parent to many children he knows they aren't all the same.  He taught me to listen to my child. 

When my 2nd daughter was 4 months old she wasn't acting right...didn't look right....wasn't right.  There was no fever.  There was no decline in breastfeeding.  She just 'wasn't right'.  I took her to the doctor and my only complaint was 'she isn't right'.  It turned out she had a double ear infection.  Most babies stop feeding when they have ear infections because the sucking motion causes pressure and pain in their ears.  My baby breastfed MORE because it was a source of comfort.  I used what Dr. Sears taught me - watch the baby, trust your instincts.

Where there is one side of extreme parenting, there is always another.  The 'other side' is often referred to as Ferberizing.  In my parenting youth I read the Ferber method.  I even attempted the Ferber method, and to this day I am thankful that I didn't continue down that road.  My oldest child, from birth, has been a challenge.  My thinking is if something is a challenge from birth it's not a nurture issue, but a nature issue.  This is after 11 years of enduring this child and 2 years of therapy to handle her Asperger'y tendencies.   What it taught me is ... Sears is right.  Listen to the baby.  Listen to the child.  Listen.  At 1 month...at 2 months...at 2 years... at 12 years...at 22 years...LISTEN. 

Your bedtime problems are not going to be resolved by some hideous plan to force your child into compliance.  I know this was a famous tactic during Victorian times but those people were brought up to be hard, cold humans.  And as much as I really want to meet and fall in love with a vampire...that's not the hard and cold I'm talking about.  I'm talking about letting a baby...and infant...scream until they vomit.  Scream until they realize they're all alone and they have to self-sooth to sleep.  Is that why you had a baby? Is that why you had kids?  To emotionally beat them into submission so they comply with your rules? 

Alright so the beer has gotten the best of me and I seem to have missed the point.  The thing that irritated me about Time is the title.  Are you mom enough.  Are you mom enough to what?  Are you mom enough to raise a child, because at the end that is what it's all about.  As happy as I am to embrace aspect of attachment parenting, I am NOT mom enough to breastfeed a 3 year old.  Why?  Because that has never been an issue for me.  Maybe I am mom enough for it.  But why pit moms against moms?  Isn't parenting hard enough?  Aren't we all exhausted, no matter how we've raised our babies?  Aren't we all tired whether we rolled over and shoved a boob in our baby's mouth or nuked a bottle of formula at 2 a.m.?  We're all under the same microscope.  Did you do enough?  Did you mother properly?  Are you mom enough? 

I am.  I'm mom enough.  I'm mom enough to bandage a knee scrape.  I'm mom enough to get homework done.  I'm mom enough to make an attempt at healthy eating.  I'm mom enough to manage multiple after-school activities.  I'm mom enough to pull off awesome birthday parties.  I'm mom enough to welcome a scared child into my bed in the middle of the night.  I'm mom enough to make sure my kids know I love them beyond all reason.  I'm mom enough to have three little girls call me "mommy".  I'm mom enough to have a personal life that doesn't include my children.  I am mom enough. 

I AM MOM ENOUGH

Walks on an imaginary beach

Anything that forces me to get off my ass and take an actual walk has to be pretty darn significant.  So let me tell you why I was suddenly standing in front of my husband this afternoon telling him it was time we walked the 'hood.  A few nights ago I had a dream that we lived at the beach.  Not in a big ol beach house or something as unattainable as that.  Just lived in a city that was at the beach.  I honestly don't even know what city it was.  Wherever it was I was happy.  As quickly as we decide to drive all of 5 minutes to Carowinds for the day - that's how quickly we could decide to spend the afternoon on the beach. 

Now before my mother gets a hold of this and starts droning on about how she "never could get you to go to the beach when we lived there" and "how many times did I want to go to the beach and you said noooooooo" - I have to admit that all of that is true.  I can't remember why I didn't want to go.  I probably had something terribly important to do, like watch Clash of the Titans or The Pirate Movie on HBO for the 3 millionth time.  Maybe I didn't want to go because my mother did, and what's more fun than pissing off your mom?  For a current answer to that question you can interview my 11 year old daughter, but I'm pretty sure it's the same now as it was then.  (Answer: shrug shoulders and say "I dunno")

So now that we've reconciled with my multi-generational mother/daughter issues let's get back to my happy place.  The beach.  We try to take a family vacation to Myrtle Beach every summer.  Every summer there is some moment when the kids are playing in the surf, I'm sitting in my beach chair, and the world goes away.  Because I spent more than a few afternoons with my friends on the sandy shores of Virginia Beach as a teenager, the moments when I'm relaxing I'm not thinking 'Wow!  We're at the beach!'.  I'm thinking 'Wow!  I'm back home!' 

When I woke up after my beach dream it took a while to convince myself that I wasn't really in a beach city.  My first thoughts were 'we should really head over to the beach this weekend'.  Finally I realized that in order to do that we'd have to drive 5 hours and sell our plasma so we could afford a hotel for two nights.  I would have to pack for three kids (and two dogs - one of which has probably seen her last family vacation because as difficult as it is to live with a 15.5 year old dog, traveling with her is nothing short of a nightmare.  Kinda kills the whole relax'y vacation'y thing).  I didn't really want a vacation - I wanted to go to the beach for the day.  Like I used to when I was 17.  (Excuse me - there's my mother again telling me that I'm turning 40 soon so I'm just having a mid-life crisis)  The thing is - I'm not having a mid-life crisis.  I just finally figured out that I know where I'm happy and it's the damn beach. 

Why "the damn beach"?  Because my chances of living at the beach ever again are remote at best.  Therefore it's the damn beach.  I spit on you.  Ptooey.  Stupid beach that I can't live at. 

The point was driven home just that much harder after watching Modern Family from last week.  Clare took the hottie sports car, drove up the coast, and played in the sand to get away from it all for the day.  Well that just pissed me off even more because I can't even drive up a coast or get to a beach in an hour.  Charlotte.  Three hours west to the mountains.  Five hours east to the beach.  No snow in the winter.  Hot and humid in the summer.  The best thing I can say is we're fairly protected from random tornado outbreaks but even that has been challenged in seasons past. 

The acceptance of this has been a bit oppressive lately.  This afternoon while I was staring at my half-written novel, the words refusing to leave my brain, I decided even if I couldn't walk on the beach, I could walk.  So we did.  We walked from one end of our neighborhood to the other (don't be so impressed - we live at the front of the neighborhood so really we walked to the end and then back).  During the quiet that I was supposed to be focusing on the reason why I couldn't sort out my novel problems all I could think was that I'd rather be walking on the beach.  I'd rather be sitting on the beach with a pad and pencil (because laptops on the beach are just a bad idea).  And I don't for a second pretend that if I just lived on the beach my ass would so be Suzanne Collins - because I don't.  But there is a certain amount of brain work I'm pretty sure I could do sitting in the sand, novel aside.  Like I said - it's my happy place.

After the walk around the neighborhood failed to give me what I needed it was time to run the Thursday shuttle, providing service from school to ballet & gymnastics to dinner and finally home.  I had to fall back on my second happy place that, thankfully, I can do just about anywhere - loud singing in the car.  The downfall is I only get about 20 minutes of uninterrupted caterwauling before three little people get in and start complaining about song choices or fighting over fishy crackers.  In the end, the music sorted out my problems with the novel.  My problems with where I will never live are not so easy. 

There are many good points to Charlotte.  Did I mention the low threat of tornadoes?  The girls go to an excellent school.  My 11 year old has a team of excellent doctors who help her with her personality quirks.  There's an awesome house in an awesome neighborhood that I would love to live in.  They have a neighborhood pool, which I think would give me some of the beach feeling I'm missing.  But right now I'm stuck.  I guess you could call it a rut.  I can't get the words of my novel onto the computer screen and I can't stick my toes in the sand to soothe my soul.  So I guess I'll keep walking the 'hood and 'singing' in my minivan. 

Amendment One in NC

Here's the thing - the Bible can be quoted until the fundamentalists are blue in face but it still has absolutely NOTHING to do with the law or the constitution.  It just doesn't.  Do I care what "God says"?  As a matter of fact I do, and I try to live my life as best I can.  However, I do not and will not impose my beliefs on anybody else because, not only do I not have the right to do so, but it flies in the face on what this country was founded upon: people escaping the rigidity of religion.  Creating legislation with faith-based information is a direct violation of the US Constitution - a document that the same people who are pushing Amendment One love to bring up whenever they feel their rights are being threatened.  Can someone tell me why your beliefs supersede mine just because you derived them from the parts of the Bible you choose to follow?  Am I allowed to stone you to death the next time I see you mowing the lawn on Sunday or not attending church?  How about that poly-cotton blend shirt you've got on? 

And while we're still on the subject - what will gay marriage do to you?  How will that affect your life?  The only thing I can foresee is a huge boost in the economy as gay men everywhere throw the most fabulous weddings you've ever seen.  I mean, honestly.  What threat does it impose?  What are you afraid of?  I've seen a lot of bullshit analogies on how you can fit a male and female plug together but you can't put a female plug to a female plug, and likewise with male plugs.  Last time I checked my 8-outlet power strip didn't accuse my laptop of cheating when it was plugged into another outlet either.  Comparing male and female genitalia to electronics is about the stupidest thing I've ever heard - and I have three kids who routinely make up excuses about who left the milk out or who spread Squinkies all over an entire room. 

Another piece of this amendment that the faith-based fundamentalists like to completely overlook is the part where it isn't just about gay marriage - it's about civil unions of ANY kind.  That means the kid who's parents aren't married will lose the health insurance that his father was providing simply because of his parent's relationship.  Just as anyone should be allowed to get married - they should also be given the choice to NOT get married. I know 'choice' isn't a popular word amongst the right wingers.  In their world you have the choice to live exactly as they tell you, while they tout smaller government.  Hypocritical much?  Sounds more like a dictatorship than the America our forefathers had in mind. 

But this is all my opinion - of which I am entitled - at least until they make a law telling me I'm not.

It's not easy bein' green (and push a liberal agenda while indoctrinating children)

Generally I let whatever random piece of stupidity Fox News tries to pass off as real news go.  Whenever I see the name 'Fox News' my brain automatically pulls up a laugh track to play in the background and I try not to get dizzy shaking my head.  They do ridiculous things like misquote the Constitution and produce incorrect maps of the world.  It would be humorous if there weren't people who followed them like their actually reporting real news.  But when they attack my beloved Muppets - that's where I draw the line. 

Recently Fox decided that Muppets were communist.  I always knew there was something suspicious about that frog who would never commit to a pig.  Communism.  That must be it. 

Spoiler Alert! 

The latest Muppet movie surrounds a out of place young Muppet and his brother (who is human - can we talk about THAT for a moment?  Who exactly was his mother sleeping with??)  who goes to see his idols - the Muppets from the classic Muppet Show.  Upon arriving at the old Muppet studios he finds them run down and sad.  When he accidentally overhears that a mean old oil baron wants to drill for oil under the studios, thus tearing it down, our young hero sets out to find the gang and raise the money to bring the show back to life. 

Throughout our story two humans struggle with their own relationship, Kermit spends two music montages recovering all our old favorites, familiar faces and props make the entire audience of 40-somethings go 'awww' and 'oh yeaaaaahhhhh', and subsequently make their children go 'What?  It's a car.  I don't get it.'  The 4th wall is broken multiple times.  There's more music, more dancing, more comedy, more of what we watch Muppets for.  In the end our heroes fall short of saving the day but it all works out anyway because, well, they're Muppets! 

I'd love to tell Fox News that my children came out of that movie theater with a new found hatred for the oil corporations and big business, because, after all, THAT is what the whole movie was about.  That just isn't what happened.  The 6 and 8 year old could tell us little more than the villain wanted to tear down the Muppet Studios.  When pressed for a reason why their only answer was that he wanted to build a museum.  Indoctrination: FAIL. 

The 10 year old caught on that the villain wanted to drill for oil but her concern was for the animals that he may injure in the unlikely event he wanted to ship that oil to another country and there was an oil spill.  Gee, oil companies.  It seems you don't need a bunch of Muppets to tarnish your reputation in the eyes of children who are already pissed that you killed about bunch of dolphins in the Gulf.  Did you have Muppet workers that caused that explosion and oil leak? 

I have a question for Fox News.  Did you watch Muppets as a child?  Sesame Street?  Fraggle Rock?  The Muppet Show?  I don't know too many 30-40 year olds who didn't.  If their point was to push a liberal agenda we wouldn't have crap like Fox News because that type of thinking would have been eradicated during that indoctrination process.

It's pretty evident that the talking heads behind Fox News didn't even see the movie, since one of them actually said the villain was a "Muppet named Tex Richman".  Actually he was a human.  And because Kermit is a polite, well-mannered frog, he only referred to him as "Mr. Richman" so I didn't even catch that his first name was Tex. 

I walked out of that movie nostalgic.  They did an excellent job pulling from different shows and movies that we saw over the years.  They hauled out the old props, the old gags, the pieces of my childhood that I kept wrapped in a little box in my heart.  The dusted off what made them special - they accept everybody, and in the end that included Mr. Richman.  There's always room for a few more friends.  And you must have a heart of stone (or no heart at all) if you didn't get teary-eyed (or flat out sob) when the gang sang Rainbow Connection. 

At that moment you are just in a land of happiness and rainbows - which is where children should be.  They don't care about oil or corporations.  Heck, they're not even going to care about that song until they're old enough to understand it.  They want the jokes and slapstick comedy.  They want to see Miss Piggy karate chop someone.  They want to see Jack Black get tied up and forced into a celebrity telethon.  They want to see Gonzo blow up and go flying across the stage.  They want to see the multitude of facial reactions that Kermit can make.  Kids have no concept of oil or corporations.  They want no part of grown-up political drama.  They just want to laugh and have a good time. 

My suggestion to Fox News and people who think like them - remember what it was like to be a kid and grow a funny bone.  They're Muppets, for cryin' out loud!

"Happy Thanksgiv....hey! What's in this stuffing??"

It's that time of year when the TV chefs completely ruin Thanksgiving.  You know what I'm talking about. You turn on your favorite morning show and there's at least two spots a day on how you can screw up your family's favorites.  The cooking shows are even worse since that's all they do for the entire month of November.  Can I just say something?  STOP IT! 

It seems that stuffing is the one to get picked on the most.  They add fruits and nuts, change up the types of bread you can use, make it without bread at all (yeah, I didn't get that one either), and generally turn it into something I probably wouldn't eat on any other day of the year anyway.  I don't want to add cranberries and carrots to my stuffing - wait - I don't want have to make my own stuffing!  It's called Stove Top, people! 

Turkey has taken it's fair share of hits too.  There was the big brine craze from a few years ago, and I have to admit I tried that one.  To be totally honest - it was a lot more trouble than it was worth and I've never done it since.  My grandmother even tried it that year and she found no value in it either.  Maybe it's just me and my mad cooking skillz but I don't have a problem cooking a 25lb bird and maintaining it's juiciness.  Seems to me the biggest problem I have with a bird of that size is finding the darn thing. 

Because my children have discovered tastes that I have not given them I do find myself making stuff I have never made before - like sweet potatoes.  I know, I know.  It's a big Thanksgiving staple, and it was on my family's table as a child.  But I didn't eat it.  Nor did I partake in that quivering mass of red cranberry jelly, with the ribs from the can it slid out of pressed into the sides.  It just seemed like a really foul thing to do to Jell-O. 

I have also picked up some things that my husband ate for Thanksgiving so I don't seem completely elitist.  They're good additions to our meal, but they don't replace things that we already eat.  And maybe that's the difference.  I don't mind adding to our meal but I don't want to change something that we look forward to all year.  I also don't want to spend more time in the kitchen making both versions of something that we normally eat.  I already spend 5 hours grocery shopping and then 3 whole days cooking.  The last thing I want to do is make two of the same thing. 

My husband explained to me that these cooking segments are for us all year long, and then for the month of November they're for the yuppies who have dinner parties with friends on Thanksgiving rather than going home.  Each year they have to do one better than the last year with yet another nasty, shi shi foo foo stuffing recipe.  Alright, then.  Have your gross stuffing.  I'm busting out the Stove Top, I'm having a normal turkey, and I'm going to attempt sweet potatoes again.  If I'm gonna have left overs, I want them to be something I like!