We Survived Thanksgiving!

This year, we decided to spend Thanksgiving alone, just our little family of five. I told Austin that I was nervous about cooking a big meal just two weeks after having a baby, and he told me he would help me.

Help me, he did! He practically did everything by himself! Including, baking a pumpkin/pecan pie from scratch. He is a really good pie-maker.

We enjoyed turkey, mashed potatoes and gravy, corn, rolls, candied sweet potatoes, and pie.

A simple meal, but very fulfilling and delicious.

In the end, I think all I did was set the rolls out to thaw (I wasn't making homemade rolls this year...I knew my limit), mash the potatoes, and make the gravy. Austin did everything else. I really love that man. He treats me so well.

I have much to be grateful for. The top of my list? My family!

Edited to add: I forgot to include the stories behind this post title: We Survived Thanksgiving. 

I had two of my three children bring me to tears the day of Thanksgiving. One because he hurt me, and one because he scared me. My boys.

The first set of tears came on when Grayson was trying to nurse. You see, I have what they call a 'fissure' on one of my milking machines. It is worse than a crack in the nipple. Much worse. It is more like a crevasse (glacial term for very deep crack). It feels and looks like someone took a serrated knife to the base of my nipple and tried, but failed, to cut it off. It is very, very painful. In fact, since that day (I'm writing this two days later), I have only allowed Grayson to nurse two times on the breast. The other times I have used a pump to relief the pressure and have feed him the breastmilk via bottle. I am hoping that in the next day or so, the fissure will be almost healed and I can resume normal feeding.

I have never been this frustrated with nursing. In fact, I am such a breastfeeding advocate that I feel guilty even thinking about stopping nursing because the pain is so great. I am hoping it gets better, and soon!!!!!

The second set of tears came on when I was preparing part of our dinner meal. Austin had given Grant a marshmallow (a jet-puffed one...not a mini) and I saw Grant in the corner of my eye, then heard him make this really weird noise. I looked at him and saw that he had some foamy stuff coming out of his mouth and he was grabbing at his throat. I asked him if he was okay, and he didn't respond. At this point, I was at his side, and Austin said he gave him a marshmallow, and we determined that he was choking on it. 

I swept my finger into his mouth and dislodged quite a bit of marshmallow, but he still wasn't breathing normally. He was trying to get a bigger piece out of his throat. We decided to start the Heimlich maneuver on him, and as Austin was getting ready to move him to start, I gave a push into Grant's belly, and somehow the marshmallow came out. It was a big piece, and I was so relieved that I couldn't help but cry. It really scared me. 

So, between the pain and the close call, we survived Thanksgiving.