Pampering

Dear Turkey,

As a Licensed Massage Therapist, I would like to make the following recommendation for all of our readers for the holidays: "it's less work to just start with a bigger pot than to have to clean out the stove after your stuff boils over." Oh wait, that's what my mom tells me every time I cook at her house (which is frequently, since the ingredients are subsidized). I think that advice actually came from my grandma (not the Jewish one).

Here's my real advice that is within my scope of practice (not being a grandma myself): pamper yourself. Wow, that's original. Let's make it a little more specific: pamper myself. Or, if you're not me: pamper me.

Here's what I did last night (dramatization by paid actors -- do not attempt):
Me: honey, will you hold this sleeping baby so that I can pamper myself righ now, even though you had a stressful day at work and I had another day off with the baby at daycare?
Honey: I will do anything as long as you don't have a meltdown

Then:

Hot chocolate with frothed milk (normally I don't go for gadgets, but this one is worth it) in everybody's favorite mug with cinnamon on top. You might wonder why this is so pamper-riffic. It's because we have a rule: babies and hot liquids do not mix. So normally this isn't something I enjoy. For this reason, I had lots of time to contemplate this blog post last night when I couldn't fall asleep because of the chocolate before bed.

I moss you,
Tofu