3 rookie mistakes parents make on Thanksgiving

When I was 8 months pregnant with my first child, my husband and I watched movies and ate for three days straight. It was so much fun that I declared it our new Thanksgiving family tradition.

Parents sitting? Eating? Watching movies?* It was the naive declaration only a childless woman would make.  

To prevent other parents from Thanksgiving delusions, here are common pitfalls new parents make:

1. You tell your kids Thanksgiving will be fun. Thanksgiving is not a kid holiday. Children don’t look forward to sitting politely through a four-hour meal consisting of indistinguishable blobs suffocating in gravy.  There aren’t even any fun gimmicks. Thanksgiving has somehow flown under the commercialism radar.

There’s no Thanksgiving candy. No turkey-shaped chocolates with nougat up the rump to simulate stuffing. No Mayflower-shaped Chuckles. No Tootsie Roll snuff pipes.

There’s no Thanksgiving mascot to win kids’ hearts and adorn all conceivable consumer goods. No Harvesty Hal, the enchanted pilgrim who stuffs popcorn under good children’s mattresses at midnight. No Squanto on the Shelf who scrutinizes everyone’s behavior. And even if there were, who cares? Kids aren’t getting any gifts for Thanksgiving no matter how they behave, except for “gifts of bounty,” and who wants that junk? Even socks are better.

The sooner your kids understand that Thanksgiving is lame, the less they will complain.

2. Having to breastfeed during Thanksgiving isn’t a burden. It’s your friend. When your “foodie” aunt brings antelope and oyster stuffing topped with cumin butter, you can politely decline, saying that your doctor told you cumin will irreparably damage your milk ducts. What are your relatives going to do, argue? They don’t want to talk about your breast milk any more than you do.

3. You don’t host. It may seem easier to be a guest, but hosting is your chance to get a break and have time to yourself. If you cook, everyone will watch your children because there are few things people care more about than the sanctity of their Thanksgiving dinners. They’ll make sure your kitchen is as secure and controlled as a space station, lest any rogue interruptions distract you and compromise the integrity of their marshmallow squash casserole.

Enjoy the peace in the kitchen. Drink. Stare into space. Watch reruns of Dawson’s Creek on your iPhone. And, by all means, eat while you cook, because you won’t get dinner. As soon as your bottom hits the dining room chair, one of your children will cry about something. You’re done cooking now, so no one’s going to help. Happy Thanksgiving!

*Now that my three kids are older, I valiantly tried to watch “American Hustle” on Netflix.  It took me four days.  Watching it in child-interrupted bits got me so confused that, one night, I wondered for 20 minutes why Bradley Cooper was kissing Minnie Mouse in a cartoon car. I finally realized I’d never loaded it and was watching the Disney channel.

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