Thanksgiving meltdown

I may or may not have had a slight meltdown with my self-imposed assignment to bring 4 dozen rolls and three apple pies to Thanksgiving dinner. That's 5 lbs. of chopping, peeling, and mixing apples and a double batch of pie crust, three times over.

In the thick of my baking frenzy I didn't realize how crazy I'd become. Jeff had to look me square in the eyes and tell me to CALM DOWN! Apparently I was a tad impatient with my family and had some crazed hair-on-fire look in my eyes and veins popping out from my heart and mind racing uncontrollably as I calculated an estimated bedtime if all went according to plan. Late.

I may or may not have forgotten the Cool whip after said meltdown.

I may or may not have also forgotten the pecan pie (Jeff insisted I NOT make another pie, but just buy a frozen pecan pie) from my frantic flour-crazed baking frenzy followed by packing crap for four people and a dog for a two Thanksgiving dinners and a football and basketball game weekend away. Of course it didn't help my blood pressure that we were running WAY behind leaving for Logan, the kids were screaming disobedient monsters, someone peed their pants, I forgot to wash Jeff's pants (the only thing he requested I wash for the weekend), my pants weren't totally dry when I had to get dressed, and I had no idea how we were going to get delicate pies and rolls to Grandma's house. I kept thinking the turkey meat better calm me down into a stupor because I'm on the verge of taking myself to the nut house!!!!!

And I may or may not have called my little brother in a panic, sending him to the depths of Hell (aka Walmart) to battle the crowds for Cool whip and a new pecan pie. I still owe him $20.

But the finished products from my meltdown(s) sure impressed my Dad. And in-laws. And 27 of my Allen relatives... well, the ones who made the smart decision to try a slice of my apple pie.

Remind me next year to either start making pies sooner and freeze them or to volunteer to bring the veggie tray.

My cousin Chandi makes a mean roll herself. Thanks Chandi for saving me from another meltdown.

Can you imagine what meltdowns might occur when it's my turn to host Thanksgiving dinner? I have no clue how my Grandmas or Aunts or Mom do this.