Throwing a great Thanksgiving dinner can be an overwhelming challenge. Especially if you're pregnant.
Maybe you can learn from my mistakes. I was seven months pregnant with twins and bent on proving to the world -- well, my family anyway -- that I was perfectly capable of laying out a great spread.
It was perhaps not the best decision I ever made.
My ankles were swollen, my legs were sore. My energy level was shrinking at a rate that corresponded inversely with the astounding expansion of my waistline. Or, what had at one time been a waistline.
I was determined to cook a turkey, make the stuffing, and bake the rolls and some pumpkin pies. I would whip my own cream.
Earnest and well-intentioned suggestions that I should make things easier on myself fell on deaf ears. Probably due to the fluid retention I was experiencing. Or maybe that's what kept me afloat.
I was eating cucumbers to help ease the edema. But what would have made more sense would have been to buy boxed stuffing and pies from the bakery. Buying buns and cans of gravy would not have been a crime but I was stubborn.
Hormones. I blame the weird hormones.
I worked and sweated and dragged myself through the day. I barked at my 3-year -old son as I decorated a beautiful table, stirred the gravy, pulled the pies out of the oven and generally wore myself to a frazzle.
I think my little boy would have preferred a hamburger in a relaxed atmosphere. I expect my husband would have agreed with him.
By the time dinner was over I was worn out, cranky and blue. My husband took care of the mountain of dishes and the splashes, stains and debris in the kitchen, because I was a wreck. An enormous, seven months pregnant barge of a wreck.
Well, we live and learn. I confess that this wasn't the last time I pulled out all the stops for Thanksgiving. But I'll tell you this for sure. If I'd ever found myself pregnant with twins again, I'd have done things very differently.
So give yourself, and your family, a break. It's not a bad thing to take care of yourself.