By Heather Miller

I have three children ranging from seven to three. For the past seven turkey days I have labored over a hot stove making it all. There was nothing this feast did not have. Turkey, mashed potatoes, stuffing, macaroni and cheese, green bean casserole… get the idea. I worked in the kitchen for hours, missing my favorite TV tradition, the parade, in exchange for making amazing holiday memories for my children. The time would come where I was ready to unveil the delicious meal I had worked so hard to prepare and I could not be more excited. The kicker? Not one of my three spawns wanted to touch a thing that I had made.

I have heard it all. They don’t like “that kind” of macaroni and cheese. Green beans are gross. The stuffing has green stuff in it. It has sent me into a complete frenzy on certain years. I have totally lost it, and not even eaten a plate for myself. I end up heating up frozen dinosaur shaped chicken nuggets for them and letting them eat as many rolls as they can fit into their little bodies.

Not this year.

I am all for tradition. I would really love nothing more than for my bundles of joy to sit at the table with me and dine on a slaved over, traditional Thanksgiving meal. Thing is, that is not happening with my family. Not any time soon, anyway. I have finally admitted this to myself and will not be turning on the stove for anything this year. This year I will be a guest at someone’s home and pack a cooler full of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for my ungrateful children. They will be allowed to eat and drink as much unhealthy food as they would like so that I am able to enjoy this holiday, adult style. If I am being honest, this is most likely the way that our Thanksgivings will go for the next several years.

I would like to give a huge shout out to you moms who are able to corral your troops to the table and have them appreciate your hard work. I envy those whose children chow down on turkey and stuffing, only to ask for seconds. Truth be told, I am pretty sure that there are days when my kids get by on only juice boxes, and who knows, that could definitely be what happens on Thanksgiving. So be it.

Moral of this story is to pick your battles. Let go when you need to and take the easy road because I assure you there will be plenty of times ahead where there isn’t even an option of an easy road. Buck up then, but until then, pour yourself a glass of wine, let them eat another cookie so they’ll be quiet and enjoy the ride!