She's making a list, she's checking it twice...

Shit!  I forgot the f*cking cranberries. 

Ahh yes.  These are surely how happy memories are made. 

I have decided to make the Christmas Day meal BY MYSELF.  It is EXTREMELY important for me to have ZERO help with this. 

PS - I have never made a turkey before, but I pulled on my Mommypants and off to the grocery I went, two year old in tow to make some happy Christmas memories.

We started with a flourish.  She was all smiles as we headed down the first aisle to select the bags of bread that I remember seeing in my mother's pantry in years past.  I am floored by the hundreds of choices.  Variety of shape, color, consistency, flavor - it was A LITTLE overwhelming. 

So I did what any red blooded American armed with a credit card and a holiday wish would do, I bought one of each, two of some and headed on down the line. 

I know there is a lot of butter required to make things taste good, so I grabbed a bunch of that. 

I picked up 3,700 Pillsbury rolls, so many in fact that they gave me a coupon at the end.

Off to the dairy section where I got a few gallons of milk, you need milk to make mashed potatoes, right?

And now...to the turkeys.  Big ones, little ones, frozen and fresh.  Holy shit. 

After making my selection, I noticed that the my little monkey was just about done with this game.

She was no longer interested in being helpful.  She was now hanging out the sides of the cart grabbing anything she could and hurling it into the back on top of the bread.  Neat.

The next several aisles were a blur.  I am pretty sure I got seven bottles of toilet bowl cleaner and at least two pink chapsticks and a jar of pickles.

I finally staggered over to the produce aisle (yes, I know I do it backwards...) and with my remaining energy and tried to figure out just how many celery stalks and onions one might need to make 700 bags of stuffing. 

I settled on two. 

I grabbed two giant bags of potatoes and staggered towards the checkout.

By this time the monkey was WAILING that she had pooped and her heiny hurted.  Adorable. 

As I surveyed my purchases I began to get that panicky feeling.  I forgot something.  But what?

I looked to the cashier, a high school student with a personality less entertaining than my bags of bread and said, "Can you think of anything that I forgot to get for the Christmas meal?" 

She stared blankly back and blinked.

She did not answer.  I had gotten my wish, I was ON MY OWN. 

I know that in the ensuing days I will make more than one frantic phone call to my mother and my mother-in-law.  They will walk me through each episode and guide me to the finish line of my very first holiday hosting experience.  They have both "been there, done that."  I am anxious to join the ranks of the few, the proud, the Turkey makers. 

And if it doesn't work out...we can always order Chinese:)