I’m proud to say I’ve made it this far in my life without ever having cooked a turkey. That’s no simple feat for an American Awesome Mom. However, I did serve up a Thanksgiving spread at my mother’s house so wonderful, it could’ve made the angels sing (objectively speaking, of course).
Keeping with tradition, we ate snacks while playing cards over life-changing discussions. Then we ate dinner while chatting about how to make the world a better place. Then we rested up for the next round… the desserts.
I have to admit, the conversation waned over the dessert course. Pretty much everything I served for dessert was a visual disaster, although some things were actually tasty. (That’s what happens when you don’t stay in your lane.)
No one complained, though, unless you count the advice for me to throw out the apple pie as a complaint. I didn’t see it as a complaint, not even when I was tossing the offensive pie into the trash (while recycling the pie plate).
Then it was time to sleep again.
Then it was time to eat again.
Everyone gathered in the kitchen for warmed up Thanksgiving leftovers. (Can you explain to me how it all tastes so yummy during the evening round when none of us are actually hungry?)
After that, with our belts loosened and our feet stretched out before us, we heroically tried to stay awake. However, Thanksgiving Stupor is very powerful force. Eventually, even the best of us succumbed, so we had to call it a night.
On Black Friday morning I felt lethargic and potato-ish. My plans for cranking out a pot of chicken vegetable soup and a chicken potpie (with gluten free crust) suddenly seemed more like a tiresome burden than an eagerly anticipated family tradition.
As I flopped down on the couch, it hit me. I had awakened with the Thanksgiving Stupor still with me, effectively nullifying my grand plans. After a mini pity-party during which I stared at my still distended belly, I got bored with the victim status and decided to kick it to the curb (cue the dramatic music).
In doing so, I implemented the first step in a Post Thanksgiving Stupor Disruptor (PTSD).
Action followed my intention as I dragged myself to my suitcase where my workout clothes lay waiting, managed to squeeze into them, and then spent 20 short minutes disrupting my PTS by running for 30 seconds and walking for 2 minutes until I had reached a mile.
Let me tell you what… I was completely rejuvenated.
- My brain fog had lifted.
- My cravings for leftover ugly desserts had disappeared.
- The enjoyment of producing homemade soup and potpie had returned.
- My happiness level had jumped several notches.
I had so much energy, I spent an hour reorganizing my mother’s clothes closet before going to cook.
Why, you ask, were workout clothes lurking in a suitcase packed for a Thanksgiving visit to your mom’s?
Because this was not my first rodeo. I knew the PTS was inevitable, and I wasn’t going to prevent it during a family celebration. That would only make me miserable, and cause discomfort in everyone around me. I knew I would be in no position to dig myself out while in the throes of the PTS. So, I prepared a PTSD, with everything I needed, ahead of time.
When we talk about modeling the behavior we want our children to imitate (because they watch everything we say and do), imagine what a huge gift it would be for them, as adults, to be prepared to fend off their own PTS (Post Thanksgiving Stupor) with a PTSD (Post Thanksgiving Stupor Disruptor) of their personal design. One of my favorite PTSDs is to bundle up the family and go outside for a walk before and after dessert. Isn’t that a great way to create a family tradition while preserving a warm family memory?
If you have any innovative holiday traditions to get your family moving, I’d love to hear them!
Happy Day to all!