I’ve spent the past three nights staying up way past my bedtime, and it’s not because I have been out clubbing until the early morning hours. I haven’t done that since…well, never.  No, it’s because I have spent the first night, preparing for my family’s Thanksgiving fete and the next night hosting my Thanksgiving fete and dealing with the aftermath.

Because one turkey isn't enough to feed a crowd this size.

A crowd this size means 19 adults...

...and 9 kid cousins. Fun!

I spent last night, with my family sharing in our post Thanksgiving tradition, going to a local amusement park. I love my family, and I love Thanksgiving, but let me just say, I am a little tired of both. Part of this fatigue has to do with sleep interruptions that come from little boys who are homesick, and boys who have nightmares.

On Thanksgiving night, Diego and my brother’s boys, ages 9 and 6 begged for a sleepover at our house. The boys had played together all day and didn’t want the party to end. I agreed to the sleepover, thinking that they would have exhausted themselves from all the playing and eating they did throughout the day. I thought they would fall asleep quickly and sleep solidly until late morning, allowing me enough time to conquer the mountain of wine glasses and sleep in a little bit. Boy, was I wrong. It was almost midnight and I settled into bed to edit my Thanksgiving blog post. As I hit “Publish,” Juan told me thought he heard someone crying.

I went to the boy’s bedroom and my 6 year-old nephew was laying in bed with huge tears rolling down his face and drenching his pillow. Diego was fast asleep in the upper bunk. My heart broke in a million pieces and I wanted to call my brother right away and tell him to come pick up his son, but, my brother lives at least 45 minutes away. So, I did the next best thing, I crawled into bed with my nephew, brought him a tissue, and a glass of water and told him a story. He loves hearing stories about his dad and I growing up. I told him the story that I posted earlier, about nearly drowning during a family fishing trip. As soon as I began to talk about it, my nephew, recalled every gripping detail. I guess he had heard it before, since my brother likes to tell his boys stories.  My nephew stopped crying and listened intently. When I got to the part of my story where my father drops his fishing pole and runs to pull me from the water, my nephew, looked at me and said, “My dad told me he was the one who jumped into save you, not Grandpa!”  I didn’t want to crush his belief, but I had to set the record straight. I did tell him that his dad was there, and helped Grandpa pull me from the raging current. Okay, I embellished a bit, but that is how family legends grow.

It seems that my brother is a great legend teller, as I learned yesterday, when I spent another day with my family, talking about family legends, but the ghostly sort. We all went to Knott’s Berry Farm, a local amusement park. My mom came along too, and I even convinced her to get on a couple of rides.

Grandma and Diego on the Spinning Sombreros

Waiting for the Wild West Stunt Show

On the first roller coaster, Jaquar at Knott's Berry Farm

While we were all waiting in line for the roller coaster rides, appropriately named Silver Bullet, and Ghost Rider, my brother, the myth maker, began telling Nico and Erica about the many encounters he had with ghosts while growing up.  Nico, doesn’t really like these kind of stories anyway, but when you are trapped in line with other thrill seekers, you have very little choice but to talk to those around you. Nico seemed to be captivated by my brother’s tales. Combine these ghost stories and a couple of Class 5 aggressive roller coasters, and it’s bound to bring out some of your own demons. The kind of demons that appear at night, in the middle of your sleep. I was awakened at about 3:30 in the morning by Nico, who came to my side of the bed, and whispered, “I saw someone walking around in the dining room.” I was too tired to do anything about it, so I moved over closer to Juan, who was sleeping soundly. Nico, crawled into bed with us, something he hasn’t done since he was little. Maybe, it was the combination of sleeping between Juan, the heater, and my son’s skinny body and bony knee caps, but I did not sleep well. Or maybe it had something to do with the fact, that after Nico told me about his dream, I had a nightmare of my own that involved  a strange man named James Drake, who was wearing coveralls, walking into my bedroom and talking to me. Either way, I am tired. So, I am taking today the day to rest, stay away from storytellers, roller coasters, and family. Maybe I’ll even get a nap.