Don't bogart that baby

While Andrea was here for the Halloween weekend, the inevitable "What are we doing for Thanksgiving?" question came up. When she asked, all I could say was, "I don't know ... I don't know ... I really don't know." I sounded like some kind of mumbling, bumbling, line-snorting idiot.

But I really don't know what we're doing for Thanksgiving. And because I'm a planner -- who usually has Thanksgiving plans set in August, who frets when life veers off the schedule I've laid out for it -- my unplanned Thanksgiving is stressing me out a bit. Okay, a lot. Unreasonably so. But I can't seem to muster the brainpower to figure out what the heck we're doing for Thanksgiving.

First of all, Brianna and Andrea both work in caretaking professions and both have folks to take care of on Thanksgiving. Andrea has a morning shift at the residential youth center, where she'll surely bring smiles to the otherwise sad faces of the adolescent girls incarcerated there. And Brianna likely -- although not yet confirmed -- has an afternoon shift drawing blood and bringing smiles to the faces of folks incarcerated in the hospital for the holiday.

Which means Thanksgiving plans will surely leave out one or the other of the girls.

And I'm not okay with that.

And I'm not okay with Megan, Preston and Bubby not being here for Thanksgiving. They're going to partake of the turkey dinner with his family. Can you believe it? I have to share my loved ones with their loved ones ... in another state!

I know I'm not supposed to bogart the baby -- or Megan and Preston -- but with the exception of the year they got married, I've not yet had to share with in-laws on Thanksgiving (Christmas is another story). And it's taking a little getting used to.

Megan has always been part of our Thanksgiving celebrations, of course. And when she and Preston started dating, he usually came home with her for the holiday breaks. The first year they were married, they chose to go it alone. Well, not totally alone; they live near Preston's grandparents and spent Thanksgiving with Grandma and Grandpa.

Then two years ago, Megan and Preston came to our new house for Thanksgiving ... and told us they were pregnant!

The following year -- last year -- they came for Thanksgiving with the little bundle of joy they'd promised us the year before.

But this year my arms will be empty. Heck, my house might be empty. And I've not yet figured out what to do about that.

So I really, really don't know what we're doing for Thanksgiving. I just know I won't be bogarting that baby. I have to share ... and I have to be nice about it.

But I don't have to be happy about it!