So my cable company shuts down my internet service on Friday afternoon in preparation for my Saturday morning appointment. That just makes tons of sense, right?

Especially when they decide not to show up and reschedule my appointment for Monday WITHOUT EVEN TELLING ME!

Naturally, I squawked when they didn’t show up and had them come the very next day. Sunday. Only the guy comes and does his thing and then leaves without setting up my internet again. Lovely. And how much do I pay for this stellar service?

So yeah, I was without internet service all weekend.  Nice, huh?

Guess what?  It was nice!  There was no pressure to get all that online stuff done.  Suddenly we were all talking to each other instead of burying our noses into our laptops.  We managed to entertain ourselves just fine, without anyone resorting to breathing into paper bags because they couldn’t check their email or ebay. 

Now I’m thinking I just might have to take an internet hiatus every weekend.  It actually felt like a holiday!!!

Hope your Thanksgiving was great (to all of you Americans) and your weekend was relaxing (to all of you who refused to brave the shopping crowds like me).

I hope to be back into full swing shortly, hopping over to your cozy corners of the internet in no time.

Last year for Thanksgiving was what I call an “alternate year”.  It seemed like everybody was heading over to their in-laws, or significant alternate families.  My husband and I decided not to cook, seeing as it was just the three of us.  Then it turned out that none of our alternates invited us over.  So there were, with no family to eat with and no plans whatsoever.  So, we got in the car and drove to my mother’s house and took her out to dinner.

There is something spontaneous and fun in eating out for Thanksgiving.  I hadn’t done that since my college years, when all us misfit students got together and hit the local Radisson Inn (cooking was not option).  It isn’t the same as eating out any other day.  Patrons in restaurants are friendlier, more talkative, reaching out.  That sense of Thanksgiving, a special holiday, breaks downs walls and barriers, extending your “family gathering” to the entire restaurant.

But still, it is not the same as an old fashion gathering of loved ones.  Needless to say, we are cooking this year. And the whole gang is coming for the most part. While I am excited and will certainly be thankful come Thursday, right now it is just mayhem.

Cleaning. 

Need I say more?

What are your plans? Are you getting away scott free this year? Or like me, are you running around like a chicken without a head, with the windex in one hand and the vacuum in the other?

And just think… Once it all ends, you get to start all over with Christmas! Toss in a 50th birthday party in between and color me chaotic all the way.

Whenever we have my stepdaughter (which is every other weekend), we usually go out to dinner with another couple who also are on the same visitation schedule.  Piper is beginning to grasp this routine. 

I imagine that being two years old is a great time.  In many ways, the schemas of the world start to make sense and come together into distinct patterns and predictability. This lends to great excitement and anticipation, whereas before there was probably just random pleasant surprises.

Piper recognizes many patterns and chain of events that happen regularly.  She’s slowly grasping the idea of weekends, which represent family outings, family gatherings, her sister coming to visit, etc.  It is a break in the daily schedule, but yet a recognizable recurring event in our lives.  She is putting things together with expectations about the sequence of events.

So, this past weekend we went out to one of those family style restaurants.  Our food had just arrived and we were busy passing plates up and down the long table when our waiter asks for everyone’s attention.

There was a birthday going on at the other table.  You know how it is at these types of restaurants, all the staff and patrons join in and sing happy birthday.  So naturally, we all stop eating long enough to sing along (it’s not like you really have a choice considering how loud it gets).

Piper twisted around in her seat so she could see all the action and sang along as best she could, smiling from ear to ear. She knew this routine. Sing along, wait for the candles to go out, then clap. 

And clap she did, right on cue.  Not only does she know the routine, she thoroughly enjoys it.  What I didn’t take into consideration was the rigidity of her expectations regarding this sequence of events.  Not until she promptly turned back around in her seat and demanded, “Where’s my cake?” 

Do I really need to explain how that went on for the remainder of the meal?  No, I didn’t think so.