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Nov
26
2012

I have a lot of stuff to tell you about today that I’m pretty sure you can’t possibly live without knowing. Like my mobile plugin is fixed so you can now actually read this on your phone!

And I was overwhelmed by your comments and emails on my Thanksgiving Day announcement, otherwise known as, “Five Kids is Not for the Weak and I am Weak.” You all were so supportive and amazing. And it really made a difference to me.

We had one friend who told us that five kids was the mark of an extraordinary life. I’m not sure what that means exactly but it brought tears to my eyes and made the panic subside a bit.

And then someone else, who had had a few cocktails, came up to me and said, “Holy f*ck, I can’t believe you’re pregnant. I mean, holy f*ck. Not much else you can say,” and then walked away.  Which is sort of how I’ve been feeling in a nutshell.

In other non-oh-my-god-baby news, my Thanksgiving Day hosting went extraordinarily well, mostly because my sister and brother-in-law are kick ass co-hosts and cooks. They made it so easy for me. (You should really invite them to your holiday dinners.)

Remember how I was going to take a picture of my fabulous tablecloths and you were going to guess where they were from and how much they cost and I was going to send the winner leftover olives? It’s not an iPad but still an incredible giveaway opportunity. Well, somehow between making kale salad and wolfing down apple crumb pie, I forgot to properly photograph the event.

But the tablecloths were from Target, $14.99 each and they looked Martha Stewart good. Just goes to show, if you obsess over something and go to 6 stores when you should probably be exercising or doing something actually productive, you can find exactly what you want.

I did have Rick snap a photo of me wearing boots to the one mile turkey run in my town. I was going to a brunch party afterwards and didn’t feel like showing up in sneakers and yoga pants. So I thought, “How hard could it be to run in boots and jeans? It’s a MILE.”

For the record, I beat quite a few people wearing fancy workout gear.

And for the record, I’m wearing sneakers next year.

Mostly because I looked ridiculous.

I also went to Far Rockaway, Queens to deliver supplies to hurricane victims which was the most important thing I did all weekend because these people are seriously suffering.

I made a gingerbread house with all four of my kids which made me feel all holidayish and jolly and then like my head might explode as Chase tried to crush the house multiple times.

And finally and I’m sure most importantly, my husband is a apparently a cornhole champ. I don’t know what this is. It’s some kind of game you play while tailgating at a Giants game. I think my Eagles fan husband might now become a Giants fan so he can tailgate for the entire season and make cornhole money on the side.

By the way, if Rick has some kind of midlife “I Have Too Many Children” crisis, we’ll all know that this cornhole thing was the first red flag.


12 Responses to it all comes down to cornhole


kelcey kintner


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