I Totally Cried.

Wow. Just … wow.

This morning I was awakened at 4:55 by Asher, who said his legs were itchy. I rubbed lotion on and got him all tucked back in, I climbed back into bed … and decided to check Facebook.

This is when I learned that WE DID IT.

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Not just you and I, but all the other “Scary Mommies” and not-so-scary mommies and businesses and kind-hearted people.

We did it. We made sure 2,152 deserving families will have food on their table on Thanksgiving Day.

TWO THOUSAND, ONE HUNDRED AND FIFTY-TWO.

That’s a lot.

Well done, you.

LISTEN UP, PEOPLE.

I could slap you with hundreds of heart-felt stories of those who have been helped by the nonprofit Scary Mommy Nation.

But I won’t.

Not that you aren’t good people, but most of you would skip over it or go to the next page. And I don’t blame you, because I would normally do the exact same thing. I get it. We don’t have extra money. We need our money. Why should we just hand it out to random nonprofits who want to feed total strangers?

I have a dog in this particular fight because I donated my time to write an essay that I didn’t think anyone would ever read. And now it’s going to be published, in a book, that will be released on Monday, November 17. (If you want to buy the book, there is a picture of it on the right side of the screen under the heading “PRE-ORDER THE BOOK!” If you click there, you can buy it. Excuse me while I hyperventilate.)

ANYWAY … whatever royalty money that the authors would have received from sales is going directly to Scary Mommy Nation, and that will translate into families who can’t afford food getting fed. I am incredibly proud to be a very small part of making someone’s holiday better. It doesn’t matter that I don’t know them. It doesn’t matter that we will likely never meet. I HELPED SOMEONE BECAUSE I CAN. Period.

We now have 24 hours left to raise the money needed to feed the remaining families on the waiting list, and I intend to guilt you into donating. Let’s begin!

First, let’s discuss what $50 can buy. I’ll start with this “Figural Turkey Bowl Stand” from Pottery Barn, which costs roughly $50.

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Of course, you could get the “Figural Fox Bowl Stand” instead, shown below. It’s regularly $49.50, which is just fifty cents shy of being enough to FEED A FAMILY IN NEED.

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I’ll let that sink in for a moment.

Are you ready for more? The next one involves this little guy below. Prepare yourselves.

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The “Figural Squirrel Serve Bowl and Stand Set” IS NO LONGER AVAILABLE from Pottery Barn. It looks just like the turkey and the fox, as you can see. But it’s more popular because the squirrel bowl can hold nuts! Apparently so many people with money to spend wanted a squirrel with a bowl for an abdomen that they bought them all up. They’re gone, off to hold appetizers for people whose lives are so bountiful that they serve nuts in bowls held by woodland creatures just because it’s CUTE and THEY CAN.

So, what else can $50 buy? Let’s see …

– This Ninja hoodie.

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– A “Personalized Wood Watch Case,” like this one from overstock.com.

Vintage-Brown-Finish-Wood-Glass-Top-Watch-Case-w-High-Clearance-Holds-10-watches-P13973992– Or … a Snuggie.

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If you love me, and I feel like you do, I am begging you to please take your extra $10 or $20 or $100 and use it to feed a deserving family. Don’t take that money that could be used for good and buy a bunch of crap that takes up space in your home that is already full of beautiful things. Just … don’t.

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To donate to the 2014 Thanksgiving Project, click here.

Did my guilt trip work?!?!? Be sure to let me know!

Disclaimer: I really do love Pottery Barn, just not right now, and if you own anything shown here, I have no judgment. Just remember all the people in need when you enjoy them, is all I’m saying.

We Do Not Own A Bar.

Yesterday afternoon Robbie texted me something called “23 Brunch Recipes To Knock Your Socks Off.” He asked me two different times if I’d had a chance to look at it, and I just shrugged him off.

This morning he mentioned it again and, fueled by my coffee, I proceeded to explain that NO, I had not looked at it, because why should I go to all the trouble of making Nutella and Bacon-Stuffed French Toast? The kids never eat anything I cook, and half of the time you don’t either because YOU ARE SO DAMN PICKY and I have never in my life experienced a grown man who wrinkles his nose at nuts in banana bread.

Once I got going, I couldn’t stop. I ranted on and on about how at the beginning of our marriage I was so gung-ho about cooking for my husband and while I tried to work around his absurd pickiness it seemed like I always fell short — the man much preferred McDonald’s over whatever I cooked at home. Sometimes I make things that aren’t fantastic, obviously, but most of the time everyone else eats it so it can’t be that bad. One Christmas I made, from scratch, a huge chocolate cake from a Southern Living recipe and brought it to our family gathering. Robbie was the only one who didn’t even want to taste it. I recall my grandpa being aghast. I just shrugged and said “He’s picky,” but really and truly, it hurt my feelings.

I don’t know why I chose this particular situation to air my frustrations over almost 9 years of trying to feed a man who won’t eat anything that doesn’t come from a box. But I did. And even as it was happening I thought, I need to shut up. But I didn’t.

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A few hours later I chatted with one of my gym friends after our class. Her three children are grown now, and one is dating a boy she really likes. “I don’t want to get too attached to him,” she said. I nodded in understanding before telling her my mom tried hard not to get attached to my boyfriends after I had a really bad breakup. But then I went on to say that when she met Robbie, she really liked him even though my dad couldn’t STAND HIM for at least the first year.

She laughed and asked me why. Oh … let’s see. Probably because the first time he met my parents was when they popped in at my apartment at 7 a.m. to hang blinds and I was like, “Oh, hi, you were supposed to call first. Mama, Daddy, meet Robbie.” And once it became apparent that he was sticking around for awhile, they took us to dinner and my father asked him “What do you want to do with your life?” And he answered, “I’d like to own a bar.”

But here we are, 9 years and 3 kids later and still married. Robbie and my dad work together now. We do not own a bar. My friend cracked up before saying to me: “Love your husband. Love your kids. You’re doing something right — you just keep doing it. ”

So Robbie, I’ll keep trying to cook for you if you agree to keep trying to eat it. But I draw the line at Pancake Fried Sausage Patties.