Don't blink it's Xmas

Am I insane or is this December 2010 already and Christmas is upon us? What happened? It was just a few months ago that I was crazy for tadpoles and tomatoes. Now, I am barely managing what I have to shop for - gifts, cards, stocking stuffers and my anti-anxiety meds.

Thanksgiving came and went. I usually spend the day with old friends but this year, I was obligated by my lover/partner to spend the day with him and his family. Don't get me wrong - I love Tim's family. His parents are amazing and have a beautiful home and I love spending time in their garden any time of the year. However, Tim morphs into a different person when you combine a family holiday with cooking. Tim and his mother both turn into these scary uber cooks. I blame Top Chef, Martha Stewart and Splendid Table for creating these hyper-sensitive, ingredient crazed, food processorized pod people and it's deadly when they inhabit the same kitchen space.

I feel completely intimidated by Tim and his mother in the kitchen. They live to cook. They have a secret cooking language and frown upon others entering their secret cooking world. I always wondered why Tim's Dad seemed to disappear whenever the stove turned on but now I know. I tread lightly and am afraid of using the wrong knife, wrong cling-wrap or inappropriate recycling method. Tim and his mother chat non-stop in their own world and I stand around their huge kitchen island waiting for them to throw me a stagiaire bone. I silently chop brussel sprouts, peel carrots, ice cupcakes and set the table. With every move, I hope to avoid notice of my less then worthy skills. At one point, Tim's mother threatened to kick me out of the kitchen if I didn't chop the carrots properly. They made me toast marshmellows over the gas stove and I knew I was going to burn the house down. I nearly cried. I was so stressed out. I got through the evening without mishap and crawled into bed Wednesday night exhausted and humbled.

Thanksgiving morning arrived too quickly and I continued to assist the uber cooks without an incident. Other then the inappropriate response to "What am I thankful for" dialog over dinner - ( I guess table humor has it's place and it wasn't my moment) - I managed to get through the day unscathed. When Tim and I stood at the train station that evening to head upstate, he transformed back into the boy I love. Relieved, I looked forward to a 3 day weekend - just the two of us in our own kitchen where I am happy to play the role of stagiaire to his chef.