It used to be a Christmas Eve tradition in my husband’s massive Irish Catholic family. Before eating dinner on the night before Christmas, we would pray, and then these thin, tasteless wafers would get passed around to everyone. Literally everyone. If you could hold something in your hand, you got a piece of the wafer stack. I’d have to guess there was at one point close to 50 people in his Gram’s downstairs. It was crowded. And most of the guys were holiday sweater sweaty. But it didn’t matter. This was tradition. And this was family.

My oldest had all 4 of her wisdom teeth extracted last week. It was the first time any of my kids had to go under IV sedation and I was OK for the most part. In the weeks leading up to the surgery I wasn’t worried at all.

At the office though, filling out the release form, I started to get a little unnerved. As I read all the possible complications from the sedation or the surgery itself, anxiety crept in as I initialed on each line. You don’t think any of those effects could happen to you, but then seeing it in black and white and being asked to sign next to each statement makes you pause.

I’m excited to introduce “The Gobble Guide,” my Thanksgiving meal planning binder that started as a simple way to manage the chaos in the kitchen but quickly turned into something much more meaningful. What began as a practical tool has evolved into a deeply personal time capsule—and a future gift for my daughters.

Along the way, I’ve indulged in tangents about my habit of giving everything quirky names and the odd joy of adulting. This project reflects not just my love of organization but also my desire to create something lasting for my family. Equal parts cathartic and practical, The Gobble Guide is designed to keep Thanksgiving stress-free while preserving cherished memories for years to come.

Reflecting on how Marina stands out among her siblings—not because of tantrums or challenges but because of her laid-back nature. Unlike the countless posts I wrote about Evie’s struggles, Marina’s ease and independence have left me with less material to “complain” about. Marina skips the nursing struggles, listens well, and handles small toys with surprising responsibility for her age. This reflection brings a realization: Marina may be the last, but she’s far from least, and sometimes a smooth journey simply leaves fewer stories to tell.

For the past two months or so, I have been getting up before dawn to record audio files of all my old blog posts. This has taken me hours. I don’t even know how many. But as of this week, I am finally done! I can’t express how rewarding it feels to check something of this size and scale off my to-do list. Especially when it’s not something I love to do.

Like most people, except my husband, I don’t really enjoy hearing myself speak. My voice always sounds like a 5-year-old to me. So, hearing me say dickface, fuck, titties and all the other crass words I use in my writing sounds super awkward. But I did it anyways because people don’t always have time to read, and I thought having these audio recordings would be a great idea.

October’s ‘Quote Quiz’ results are in, and let’s just say…no one aced it. I mean, we had Scarlett launching her 2025 campaign on the quiz paper, Gianna assuming I was still quoting about ‘imagination,’ and Vince—who may or may not have cheated from the toilet—taking home the win.