“Send Pie and Patience: A Mom’s Guide to Surviving Thanksgiving Week”

“Send Pie and Patience: A Mom’s Guide to Surviving Thanksgiving Week”

Well, it’s here, y’all.

Thanksgiving Week. The official kickoff to the “Why Are My Kids Home So Much?” season.

If you're a mom like me, you’ve been mentally preparing for this week since Halloween. You knew it was coming. You felt it in your bones when the school newsletter said “Fall Break.” You stocked snacks. You bought extra coffee. You even said a quick prayer in the Target parking lot. 🙏

And yet… nothing could’ve prepared you for this.

Let’s take a little stroll through what Thanksgiving week really looks like for moms:

Monday: The Optimist's Day

You're feeling confident. You woke up early, made pancakes, and declared, “We’re going to do a fall craft every day this week!”

By noon, there’s glitter in your bra, a glue stick in someone’s hair, and your toddler ate part of a pinecone “because it smelled like cinnamon.”

Crafts are canceled.

Tuesday: The Grocery Gauntlet

You brave the grocery store with three kids in tow. Your toddler screams “I TOOTED!” in the spice aisle, your middle child insists you absolutely need five cans of whipped cream, and you somehow forget the one thing you came for: turkey.

You leave with 47 items and still no sage. Also, someone smuggled a pack of Pokémon cards into the cart. You’re too tired to return them. Happy early Christmas.

Wednesday: Prep or Cry

This is the day where you try to cook “ahead of time” while simultaneously refereeing wrestling matches in the living room.

You peel potatoes while someone yells “MOM HE’S LOOKING AT ME!” from across the house. You burn the first batch of cornbread while rescuing the baby from sitting on the cat. You cry softly into the Cool Whip.

By bedtime, your kitchen looks like a scene from a baking competition where everyone lost.

Thursday: The Big Show

You’re up at 5am because the turkey is the size of a toddler and “takes time.” You’re basting, sautéing, praying. Your kids have eaten five dinner rolls before noon and are now in full sugar-rage mode.

At 2pm, you serve a beautiful meal. No one eats it.

The toddler eats a banana. Your cousin’s kid cries because the mashed potatoes are “touching the gravy.” Your own child requests cereal.

You eat stuffing in the laundry room while hiding from your relatives. Honestly, it's peaceful.

Friday: The Aftermath

You open the fridge and stare into the cold abyss of leftovers. You consider running away. You wonder if mashed potatoes count as a food group. You Google “how to turn stuffing into pancakes.” You consider putting gravy in your coffee.

If your house is loud, messy, and full of chaos—you’re doing it right. If your kids ate three rolls and called it dinner—you’re still doing it right. If you’re holding it together with dry shampoo and sarcasm, mama, YOU ARE THRIVING.

This week isn’t about perfection. It’s about survival, laughter, and pretending your stretchy pants are festive.

Now go pour some cider, steal a piece of pie, and remember: you’re the real MVP of Thanksgiving.

(But seriously. Can someone come get these kids? School doesn’t start until next week. 😭)