Finding Magic in Our Small Thanksgiving
The house smells like butter and sage as I peek into the oven at our modest-sized turkey. In the living room, my husband is attempting to teach our kids the finer points of football, though they seem more interested in building a fort with the couch cushions. And you know what? This small, intimate Thanksgiving of ours feels just right.
Image Credit: @milada_vigerova
There's something beautifully simple about celebrating with just us - my husband and our kids. No elaborate scheduling, no political discussions to navigate, no pressure to make Great-Aunt Linda's famous (but honestly not-so-great) green bean casserole. Instead, we're creating our own little traditions, ones that fit our family perfectly.
This morning, the kids helped make pumpkin pancakes, getting more flour on themselves than in the bowl. My husband insisted on wearing his "official turkey carving" apron - the one with the ridiculous puns that makes our oldest roll their eyes and our youngest giggle uncontrollably. These tiny moments, these little traditions we're building together, mean everything.
Sure, sometimes I see photos of those big family gatherings flooding social media - tables stretching through dining rooms with countless dishes and relatives packed shoulder-to-shoulder. But our small celebration has its own kind of magic. We can hear each other talk. We can let the kids be kids without worrying about disturbing anyone. We can eat dinner in our pajamas if we want to (and sometimes we do).
Our Thanksgiving menu reflects our family perfectly: simple, a little unconventional, but made with love. We don't need five different kinds of pie or a turkey big enough to feed an army. Instead, we have our favorites - the decorative cranberry sauce our youngest insists must be shaped like the can it came in and no one actually eats; the stuffing recipe my husband perfected through years of trial and error (although to me every year tasted amazing!); and yes, the store-bought rolls because sometimes convenience wins (and they're delicious).
What we might lack in numbers, we make up for in laughter and genuine connection. There's space for real conversations, for silly games, for impromptu dance parties in the kitchen while the turkey rests. We're building memories that our kids will carry with them - memories of warm, uncomplicated holidays filled with love and comfort.
At our table, everyone gets to be heard. Everyone's favorite dish makes the menu. Everyone's new idea for a tradition gets considered (even if some of them, like our six-year-old's suggestion of a Thanksgiving water balloon fight, don't quite make the cut).
As the day winds down and we settle in for our annual viewing of whatever movie the kids picked this year, I look around at my small but mighty family. The dishes can wait. Right now, squished together on the couch with full bellies and happy hearts, I know this is exactly the Thanksgiving we were meant to have.
Our celebration might be small, but our gratitude is enormous. For these quiet moments. For the freedom to make our own traditions. For the love that fills our home. And mostly, for each other - this little family unit that makes every day, especially Thanksgiving, feel complete.
