Another victory for my holiday conquering rampage.
I woke up at 6 this morning to Nathaniel hollering. When I went to his room, he told me he wanted water. I grumbled and got him a drink, but told him not to yell again, he could get his own water.
I had just taken a deep sigh to settle back into bed when I heard The Sound. It's the sound that makes any parent freeze with dread. That Sound that means many, many levels of yuck and turns my stomach.The Sound that makes Lysol, bleach wipes and all things germ-killing my BFFs.
I kicked Hubby on my way out of bed and told him Nathaniel was getting sick. My day began cleaning the bathroom, his clothes and sanitizing any surface I could find. And since I was up and running the washer, and knew I'd never get back to sleep, I decided to start my day.
Hubby ushered Nathaniel back to bed until he left for work and I spent the morning trying to make 2 pies and a 3rd crust, alternating following one child to the bathroom, pulling the other out of whatever she was into and buying her off with snacks. And washing my hands every 30 seconds because as soon as I'd start a food-prep related task, something would pull me away.
But I did it. I made apple and pumpkin pies from scratch and when we arrived at the in-laws', I finished the peanut butter cream in the graham cracker crust. I licked the spatula. It's gooood. Worth the headaches.
I still need lots of practice with Nana's recipes, but I am certain she will be proud of my efforts today. My crusts do not look perfect. I prefer "rustic" or "made with love" or "if you want to criticize, make your own darn pie."
We made the 3-hour-drive with a Tupperware bucket next to Nathaniel's seat that thankfully we didn't need, but he's still not 100 percent yet. Here is hoping he is better in the morning and no one else gets sick too.
For that, I would be truly thankful.
Happy Turkey Day Everyone.