Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!
Although we all should do our best to be thankful every day and blah blah blah best intentions…. It’s only on Thanksgiving that so many of us, including me, really take stock of how lucky we are. It’s the one day where we don’t compare ourselves to the Jonses, where we don’t think about what we don’t have, where we don’t wish for something else. It’s the one day we take to be content with ourselves and our lives and our choices. And it’s frequently the one day we take to say thank you to all those who make a difference in our lives.
Thank you to my parents, who love the wee ones as though they were their own children. Without them, our lives would be very different, and the wee ones would not have such a wonderful and positive influence in their lives. We rely on them as babysitters and chauffeurs, laundresses and bakers. We don’t ask them for much of what they give, as they volunteer and give gladly of their time and treasure. I will forever be grateful to them.
Thank you to the wee ones for being such awesome kids. Although there are times when I’m frustrated, I do realize how lucky I have it with them. They have no major allergies or sicknesses, and they are really quite cooperative and loving children who treat each other with respect (most of the time) and who are among the more well-behaved children I know.
Thank you to my husband who does more than just put up with me on my bad days. He loves me more than anyone else could. He graciously does all the yucky work in the house that I won’t touch with a ten foot pole from washing dishes to cleaning toilets to taking out the garbage. He does it with nary a complaint, and he’s a great dad to the wee ones, too.
Thank you to my friends, from the blog and off, who cheer me up when I need it. And who give me a good old-fashioned whack in the head when I need it. I know that no matter what I need, I will have someone there with an open door or hand extended ready and willing to offer it. You’ve kept me sane, and for that everyone is grateful.
Thank you to the morning bus driver for Little Miss who is so careful about making sure that Little Miss is safe. Any other bus driver would leave her in the harness we had requested at the beginning of the school year, but you recognized that she was too tiny for it and made sure that we put her in a carseat so that she would be safe and secure on her commute to and from school. Mister Man had you last year, and both wee ones talk about your bus rides with the Disney music and the nice Miss Deana.
Thank you to all the teachers and therapists who work with Mister Man (and Little Miss, to some degree). I used to cry when I’d see how the “other” children were developing and talking and interacting and running and climbing. I’d see how Mister Man would hold up the line as he tried so hard to climb the ladder to the slide. I watched as he never had an interest in playing with any of his peers. And I’ve watched over the past few years as he’s blossomed into a neat little kid who has friends. He’ll never be the most athletic or popular kid, but that’s ok. As long as he’s happy, that’s all I care about. And you’re helping him get there.
Thank you to my bosses at work who allow me the flexibility to work from home twice a week and go into the office only once. I appreciate the trust you accord me and the challenging work you present me with. The paycheck is always nice, but it’s the mental stimulation that again helps to keep me sane and grounded. I know this situation would be extremely hard to replicate elsewhere.
Thank you to all of you who read my blog, even though I know many never comment. It’s really gratifying to know that I don’t bore the snot out of everyone who happens upon my ramblings, and the comments that you leave really make my day, especially when I’m tired and cranky. Without the readers and the comments, I probably would have quit awhile ago, and I want this record available for the wee ones to see as they grow older — and for me to remember what life was like when they were young.
Just like the Academy Awards, I know I’m forgetting people, but if I keep writing, pretty soon I’ll have no one left reading. I’m off to go shower and change before heading to my parents’ house with twenty other relatives to gorge ourselves at dinner. I’m bringing my traditional Marguerite Salad and Kat’s Pumpkin Gingerbread Trifle.