Elastic Waistband and the Holiday Demand

The frenetic nature of holiday festivities seems to have vanquished my blogging spirit- in addition to my diminished mental capacity effected by corralling an indefatigable toddler and an insatiable newborn. However, I would be remiss if I failed to commemorate two occasions of revelry that have successfully sabotaged the return of my skinny jeans.

To begin, Thanksgiving proved momentous as we traversed the picturesque Blue Route (476) to attend both Frankenfield and Kulp turkey feasts. Fortunately, the day lacked the dessert disaster reminiscent of yesteryear when my now infamous husband unwittingly dropped my mom’s celebrated apple pie at her feet (and then offered to serve pieces from the floor- seriously). However, I must momentarily surrender satire to sentiment and confess the abundance of blessings undeservedly afforded. As the shrieks of Palin’s delight while consuming nearly an entire green bean casserole greeted my ears and Eowyn refused to let Poppy put her down- having (traitorously) declared him her favorite person in the world and Caid slept angelically in my arms amid the tumult, the weight of gratitude was overwhelming. Admittedly, the seasonal transience of life has left its conversational mark as my sagely grandmother observed the noted lack of usual discourse surrounding young men and dating relationships, as most of her female progeny are now blissfully married- though I contended that this should not preclude the discussion and/or appreciation of comely bachelors in general :)Moreover, we relished the visiting presence of Jason’s eligible singleton brother, Jeff (interested applicants please apply) whose antebellum charm belies his carpetbagger Philly origins. Without difficulty, he secured Eowyn’s affection – a feat declaratively reflected in: “I love you more than all the donuts in the world.”

However, Thanksgiving was not the only saboteur in my quest for the holy grail of “pre-maternity” -skinny jeans- Rebekah’s bridal shower also proved to be an indelible and blog-worthy caloric subterfuge. The impending conclusion of her solo status warranted a celebrative brunch in her honor. Perhaps, the pictures tell it best. Suffice to say, a shower is the singular setting in which lingerie and toasters are greeted with applause by your mother between demure sips of pink punch. January 2nd will be the final installment of Kulp girl dowries and the death of many a young men’s dream, for this year, all Rebekah wants for Christmas is Drew. So, until then, onward to the elliptical I go-grateful for the celebrations that necessitate such exercise.