Just thankful

It's getting late. I am stuffed full of turkey, pie and all the trimmings. Pumpkin needs to get to bed and so do I. The boys have already retired to their quarters and soon the house will be quiet.

We are spending this Thanksgiving on The Other Side of the Mountains, in our country home. It's our first Thanksgiving here with our own little sanctuary. It is positively wonderful. I spent the morning baking pies and trimming green beans in my own kitchen. In the early afternoon we went up to my Mom's and had a wonderful Thanksgiving with all of the family that could be in town. And now we have the blessing of being able to retreat back to our own space and end the day on our own terms. It's perfect.

My Mom seemed happy today which also makes me very thankful. I don't forget for one minute how stark and empty the holidays must feel for her without my father here- even though she doesn't show it. This is also her first Thanksgiving without her mom, my Nana, which must also feel strangely hollow.

I admire my Mom. She does an amazing job of focusing on the blessings in the present while allowing herself to remain mindful, even wistful, for those things she wishes were different. Those things we all wish were different.

So, I shall head up to bed thankful. Thankful for family, for home, for my children, my parents, my siblings... just thankful.

Good night. Happy Thanksgiving.

Moments on memory cards

Having returned from our quick little vacation, and while wading through the 100+ photos I took, I can't help but be thankful for photography and video in all its forms.

I'd like to think I would never forget this face. But I would, eventually. I might be able to conjure up some vague version of her three year old self someday, but it wouldn't have the crystallized quality of this image. The sparkle, the tongue, the gleeful grin... I don't think I would have remembered all that. And so I am thankful for moments like this, caught on "film."

All work and no play...

...makes this family cranky!  So we are going to play for a few days!

Thus, I will be taking a blogging hiatus from my 30 Days of Thanks, but I promise I won't stop counting my blessings!  It should be easy since I am never more thankful than when I get to make memories with my little family.  See you when we get back!

Oh, and a quick shout out to Little T.  The boys came home with their marching orders from their teachers in regards to the two days of school they will be missing.  T had a pretty sizable stack of work but he was bound and determined to get as much done as he could before we leave tomorrow morning.  He parked himself at our dining table for nearly three hours and diligently slogged through every single piece of work he had been assigned.  He finished it all.  I need to remember that boy's amazing self-motivation the next time he is making me positively insane with his non-stop energy. 

Big J on the other hand.... well, he had a lot of excellent rationales for why it will be better for him to do most of his work while on vacation.  Still, he did get a fair amount done and his attitude is a vast improvement over what it would have been last year.  So, we will be thankful for progress.

Sunrise blessings

Well... this is kind of starting to become the Every-other-day-of-thanks, but the truth is I really do spend all day focusing on my blessings because I am always trying to figure out what I will write that night!  So even if I don't always write it down, it is still having its intended effect.

Today's blessing arrived with the rising of the sun- which is always a nice way to start the day. Pumpkin was in bed with me after a 2:00am nightmare that left her shrieking, "Moooother!!!" (Yes, mother.  She prefers to call me mother these days.... I don't know why).  

I had shot out of bed and dashed down the hallway as fast as I could knowing that the decibel was only likely to grow.  I moved toward her in the darkened room and found her already standing, arms stretched out, ready to leap into mine as soon as I was close enough.  She wrapped her little arms and legs around me like a chimpanzee and nestled her tear-stained face into my neck.

I have mentioned before that my tolerance for sleep deprivation is very, very low.  This has caused me to adopt a whatever-gets-mom-the-most-sleep philosophy of nighttime parenting.  I am all for short term results and care little about long term consequences when faced with a parenting conundrum at 2am.  I console myself with the knowledge that this same lackadaisical attitude was used with my boys and they both sleep perfectly fine now and have for many years.  All of this is to explain why once Pumpkin was firmly attached to my body my immediate path was back to my own bed where I plopped her down between Superdad and I and climbed back underneath my warm, cozy covers.

I have a confession to make... I don't really mind when this happens every now and then.  There is something so profoundly reassuring about how quickly our daughter can move from terror to complete peace by the simple act of lying her down in between the two people who love her most in the world.  Without fail she falls back to sleep nearly instantly.  Her breathing slows, her body relaxes, her arms fling open wide in complete trust.  She rests easily in the knowledge that nothing in the world could possibly harm her now that she is in this place- this fortress of love.

This morning we all slept in a little and so Pumpkin and I awoke at the same time.  As we stretched and yawned we began to peek at each other through bleary, sleepy eyes.  Once she realized where she was, and who was next to her, she scooted even closer to me and burrowed her head into my arms.  We both dozed that way for a little while longer and then slowly started to say our good mornings.

I whispered, I love you, Pumpkin.

She whispered back, I love you too, Mother.

And the day began...

Mixed blessings

I mentioned few posts ago that I have made a new friend, and indeed I have.  This is momentous for me because although I have plenty of friendly acquaintances and a few good friends, I don't make new friends easily.  I have trouble pushing past the barrier that stands between friendly chit chat and actual friendship.  Somehow this time I have succeeded and I have enjoyed having a new person to call up for playground playdates or to share a laugh over lunch.  I'm starting to think that my social need may be higher than I once thought.

Here's the trouble... my new friend will only be living here for another 9 months or so.  Her husband is doing his fellowship work here and at the end of the fellowship they will move back to Michigan.  I certainly don't begrudge them this arrangement, I want only the best for them and their family.  They both grew up in Michigan and have family there so it all makes perfect sense. But I am a little sad that this new friendship comes with an expiration date.

I realize there is no reason we cannot continue to be friends in some fashion.  I imagine we will exchange Christmas cards and send each other occasional emails, but let's be realistic... Michigan and my corner of the States couldn't be much further apart and life has a way of moving on.

I have decided though that their impending move is no reason not to continue to enjoy this new friendship while she is here.  Really that would be the height of selfishness, wouldn't it?  Plus, I have the feeling God is trying to teach me something with this relationship.  

So, today, I am thankful for mixed blessings.  

Grasping at straws

Today was one of those days that was just so darn ordinary (see previous post) it is really hard to conjure up much gratitude.  Oh, I am always thankful in a sort of vague I'm thankful for my life etc... way- but I would like to try and attempt to be a bit more specific than that.

So... here I go...

I am thankful that I don't have to be 13 again.  I am especially thankful I don't have to be 13 while sporting a new set of braces on my teeth.  I never had braces (yes, he hates me for that) but it really doesn't seem fun.  I am also thankful he is handling it with such aplomb and good humor.

I am thankful Big J's science project is done- a day early.

I am thankful that Little T has school tomorrow after having the past three days off.  I've loved having him home... but, well, it's enough.

I am thankful Pumpkin was asleep by 8:30 tonight.

I am thankful that I have the sort of husband who doesn't bat an eye (or complain) when he walks in the door at the end of the day and I say, I have no idea what we are having for dinner.

I am thankful I have very little on my schedule for the next two days because I really need to get some housecleaning done.  And before I allow myself to mutter even a single whine about that, I will say that I am thankful I have a house to clean.

So, see there?  There's always something...

Next thing you know I'll be changing my name to Pollyanna.

Ordinary time

The Christian calendar has six seasons.  The calendar begins with Advent and then moves to the seasons of Christmas, Epiphany, Lent, Easter and Pentecost.  After Pentecost there is a long period of time that is simply known as Ordinary Time.

I have always loved that name... Ordinary Time.  To me it speaks to the reality that we cannot live in a constant state of heightened awareness, celebration, or even worship.  We can't always be either feasting or fasting.  Most of our lives exist somewhere in the middle.

In these final days of Ordinary Time I am trying to be thankful for just that.  The dailiness of it all.  I am trying to take comfort in routine and even the mundane.  Ordinary Time is what allows us to not only recharge for the busier seasons of the church year, but also to anticipate them.  As we move closer toward Advent we can start to taste and feel all that comes with that season of quiet expectation.  But it's not here yet...

Today is still Ordinary.  Tomorrow will be too.  I choose to be thankful for that.

The Gratitude Police and grace

Well, I missed Saturday and Sunday so the first thing I am thankful for is that there is no such thing as the 30 Days of Thanks police and that no one will be coming to confiscate my computer as punishment for my poor participation.  Phew!

It was an odd weekend in some respects.  Little T had a classmate over to play which gave all of us cause to be thankful and to practice grace.  This young boy, all of about 10 years old, is Korean and is going to school here in the States away from his family, his homeland, and his culture of origin.  He lives here with guardians whom I believe are also Korean and goes home to visit during school breaks (provided they are of sufficient length to warrant the 9 hour plane trip home).  He has been doing this since the third grade.

He is a quirky child and it made me proud that Little T has befriended him since I wonder how well he relates to the other children.  He prefers to dress formally, listens to classical music and is a bit OCD when it comes to cleanliness and hand washing.  He has no interest in sports (other than Tae Kwon Do, in which he is quite accomplished).  He doesn't care for video games or TV.  It was a little embarrassing for me when I caught myself wondering, what on earth will they do?  But, of course, there are other options and they did find them.

Unfortunately one of the other options turned out to be the destruction of our house.  Both incidents were accidents, certainly not intentional, but they left Superdad and I wondering if this boy might possibly be bionic.  He was more than apologetic.  He actually seemed a bit afraid as to what the consequences might be until I assured him that we were not the sort of adults who believe in punishing children severely for mistakes, however much damage they might have caused to our walls and doors.  He seemed slightly reassured by that but never stopped apologizing for his "incompetence" and for giving "a very poor impression."  

I don't know if he will ever come over again.  It wouldn't surprise me if he felt too mortified to ever set foot in our house again and I'm not sure the playdate was his idea anyway.  In surveying the damage Superdad and I had to wonder if we ever wanted him to come over again. But if there were ever a boy in need of forgiveness, love and grace, this is the boy.  I feel thankful that we had the opportunity to show him a little bit of all three, I pray we succeeded.

So this weekend I felt thankful that we do not live in a situation, or a country, or whatever the reason, that we feel it is in our children's best interest to send them thousands of miles away from home to gain an education.  I felt thankful that we have a son with a kind, open heart who has the capacity to befriend a child so completely unlike himself (think Oscar and Felix).  I felt thankful that I am married to a man who can keep his cool even in the face of lapses in judgement resulting in the need to get out tools, spackle and paint.  I felt thankful once again for this little family, our home, and the blessing of abiding together under one roof.

Room to breathe

Anyone who knows me would have to know how thankful I am to be a mother.  Before Big J entered our lives there was a long 2 1/2 years when we wondered if we would ever be blessed with a child.  After all of the rounds of fertility drugs, negative pregnancy tests and unanswered prayers, my pregnancy and safe delivery of Baby J was nothing short of radiant.  We reveled in his very being and my initiation into motherhood was sweet indeed (that's the beauty of looking back from the distance of 13+ years- long forgotten are all the sleepless nights and fussy evenings).

I love babies.  I love all of my babies, the three I got to keep, and the two who now wait for me. But each subsequent pregnancy became increasingly difficult for me, both physically and emotionally. Mothering a newborn while having an older child or children to tend to was not as simple as it was in those first days when there was only one.  I discovered I was not the multi-tasker I thought I was and that my tolerance for sleep deprivation was very, very low.  My kids never lacked for love and affection, but I can look back now and see so many missed opportunities simply because I didn't possess the energy to rise to every single motherhood moment.

Over the past year or so I made the decision that it was time for me to say goodbye to the pursuit of motherhood and to instead embrace the motherhood that is mine.  This came with mixed feelings and more than a few shed tears, but I believe I am beginning to arrive at a place of contentment with this new season.  Not only contentment, but excitement, energy and lots and lots of plans.

Oh, it's not that I haven't always tried to be an intentional mother.  I have and, for the most part, I believe I have done a good job with my kids thus far.  But, as I said, there have been some missed opportunities over the years and I am more than a little revved up about starting to make up for lost time.

One thing I have always wanted to do is to bring more of the liturgical calendar, the Christian calendar, into our daily lives.  Living the seasons of our faith has always been important to me but I have done a poor job of sharing this passion with my children.  Daunted by elaborate craft-oriented parent guides (ugh!) I have allowed my desire for my children to know the rhythm of the church year to fall by the wayside.  No more!

I am beginning to plan now for the seasons of Advent, Christmas and Epiphany.  I have learned from my past errors and know that if I do not plan now it will not happen then.  I am very good at shooting from the hip in some areas, but not this one.  I want our family celebration of these seasons to be meaningful, realistic, and beautiful in its simplicity.  That takes some thought.

One book that is proving to be a lovely way to guide my thoughts is The Circle of Seasons: Meeting God in the church year by Kimberlee Conway Ireton.  This engaging little book is such a nice introduction to understanding the liturgical calendar without going into an unnecessary amount of church history.  It answers very simply how we got from there to here and what we can do now to keep these seasons alive within the fabric of our daily lives.  

As I sat on the couch today reading from The Circle of Seasons, musing about my plans for the season of Advent that is only a few short weeks away, I listened to Pumpkin playing in the other room with her animals and dolls.  Hearing her animated chatter I couldn't help bask a bit in the glow of her rich imagination, her good health, and her very being.  But at the same time it didn't take long to remember what afternoons were like not that long ago when she was a baby. No doubt they were wonderful in their own way and I reveled in her existence then as well.  But there weren't a lot of afternoons spent curled up reading on the couch while she happily entertained herself.  Of course not, that's not what babies are supposed to do.  But she's not a baby anymore and... well, I'm a little bit thankful for that (if that's okay to say).

There's just a little more room to breathe these days.  A little more room to be.  A little more room to dream.  A little more room to plan.  And that little more room feels really, really good right now.

I'm thankful.

New friends

Pumpkin and I have each made a new friend.  The best part is that her new friend is the daughter of my new friend.  Isn't that convenient?

Our new friends came over today and while the girls enjoyed playing all sorts of games in Pumpkin's room, the mommies actually had a chance to visit.  How great is that?  An adult conversation.  In the middle of the day... on a Thursday.  Who would have ever thought?

I am thankful for my new friend.

On a side note:  My new friend noticed a couple of the mementos in our home that honor Molly and Joseph and asked me about them.  I shared a glimpse into our family story and she couldn't have been lovelier about it.  She was appropriately compassionate, asked gentle questions, and offered not a single platitude or cliche.  For that too, I am thankful.

In the absence of wisdom

Loss never really ends, you know?  I mean, if you lose something or someone significant in your life there will always be surprising, unexpected moments when that empty space suddenly becomes a gaping cavern again.  You will heal, you will making meaning of your losses, you will find ways to live again, but the absence of what was will still find its way into the reality of what is.

Today, I miss my Dad.  Really, really miss my Dad.

Last night I went to bed feeling as though I wanted to cry but couldn't.  I had no idea why.  I don't really care all that much about the election.  I choose not to invest myself in politics to the degree that I misplace my proper allegiance.  God is first in my life.  I place my trust and my salvation in God, not mere mortals who have happened to attain messiah-like status.  I refuse to enter into a world where we treat the opinions of celebrities as gospel and journalists act as campaign managers.  I do care about my country and its policies.  I believe government can be a force for good.  I just don't believe it is the ultimate force for good, or even the most effective one.

So why have I felt tears hovering so close to the surface for the last 24 hours?

Because I miss my Dad.  

There was no one in my world who understood politics and government better than my father.  He was slow to offer his opinion, never one to jump on a soapbox, but if you asked, and he told you... you couldn't help but listen.

There was a time when I was very young when many people were trying to convince my father to run for the state legislature.  I don't know what position they were encouraging him to run for, I was too young to know the difference.  What I remember was it being discussed between my parents and my Dad's smile when he told us that he decided not to because it would mean too much time away from his family and leaving behind the company he loved.  I never heard it mentioned again.

Instead my father invested his time and his resources into his community, candidates he believed in, and causes he cared about.  He also read- voraciously.  He subscribed to at least four major news magazines (I think there may have been more), and read multiple newspapers. And unlike most of us, he did not seek out only those publications that supported his particular political bent.  He thrived on reading both sides of every issue at all times.  He was one of the only people I have ever known who could watch Cspan with interest and enjoyment.  He knew the name and party of every single senator (I mean it, every single one), and a startling number of the congressmen and women.  

Today there is a lump in my throat and tears rolling down my cheeks because I desperately want to hear what my Dad would say.  I want to know his opinion, his predictions, his sage advice.  I want to hear him sum it all up in 3-4 sentences as only he was able to do.  I want to pick the vast knowledge of his sponge-like brain and at the same time hear him laugh again, because he always knew how to laugh.

My father was no optimist.  Nor was he pessimist.  He was at all times a realist.  I could use some help right now figuring out what is real.

But because this is the month for counting our blessings, I will do my best to turn this sorrow on its head.  Today I am thankful that I had 35 years to learn from and be nurtured by such a giant of a man.  I am thankful my Dad got to know my husband and my husband got to know him (what kindred spirits they were!)  I am thankful my Dad got to meet all of my children and that somehow they will all carry a piece of him into the future.  I am thankful for the impact my Dad had on so many lives and the ways his quiet generosity lives on in us all.

I am thankful for my Dad, even as I miss him so.

Status quo

With all of the frenzied excitement around words like change in my country tonight, I am actually feeling very thankful for all of those things that will still be the same when I wake up tomorrow morning.  It's not that I am categorically opposed to change, I just tend to like to ease into things. Radical swings of the pendulum make me queasy.

When I wake up my faith will not have changed, my family will not have changed, my home will not have changed, and my friends will not have changed.  I feel very, very thankful for that.

When things don't add up

My 8th grade math teacher was an incomprehensibly bad teacher.  I say this as someone who has the utmost respect for teachers and knows how hard most of them work to inspire and educate young people.  I say this also as someone who knows though that they aren't all like that.  My 8th grade math teacher was not like that.

It was rumored among the students that he was a notorious pothead and was most often stoned. Even looking back now from an adult perspective I think we were right.

He managed to never once correct a single paper or test.  We, the students, corrected each other's homework and tests.  His only task in the whole process was to decide whether we would hand our paper to the person behind us or in front of us.  Once corrected we would call out the scores to him (an exercise in humiliation for math students like myself) and then either put away or toss the graded paper.  He never once looked at our work or even seemed to care whether we were giving him accurate information (which not everyone was).

When my parents discovered that I was flunking the 2nd quarter of math, my mother promptly went to meet with my math teacher and the school counselor.  He casually admitted that he had no idea why I was struggling because he had never seen me work a single problem all year.

The first morning I went into school early, under the pretense of getting extra help from him, he looked at me over his cup of coffee and said, "You don't want to be here, do you?"  Stunned into a compliant silence I stared at him unsure of what to say.  It was clear that he didn't want me there, that was very, very clear.  Taking my silence as agreement he smiled and waved his hand and said, "Go on.  You don't need to be here."  And so I left.  My Mom hired me a tutor.

The bizarre saving grace of the whole year was that this teacher had another unique practice of letting all of his students choose their grade for the 4th quarter.  He would simply go around the room and have everyone state out loud what grade they felt they had earned.  There were always a couple of honorable students who opted for a "B", but for the most part every single kid gave themselves an "A."  So did I.  

I passed 8th grade math with a low "C."

So today, I am thankful for Big J's 8th grade math teacher.  

He is the polar opposite of my own 8th grade math teacher which is reason enough to be very, very thankful.  He is engaging and interested in his students.  He encourages and patiently answers all questions.  He allows the students to re-take any test that they do not do well on for the shocking reason that he "would rather they learn the material than just accept a bad grade and move on."  He knows his subject, he enjoys teaching, and he is doggedly determined to get these kids to learn the fundamentals of mathematics.

Thank you, thank you, thank you, Mr. W.  You are a champ.

The gift of time

Tonight I am thankful for the gift of time.  

Time that creates new maturity in a growing boy.

Time that heals.

Time that turns our clocks back and allows an extra hour of sleep and a newfound earlier bedtime for one three year old girl.

Time that marches us closer to seasons of thankfulness and renewed joy.

Time that arrives without fail each and every morning and is ours for the taking.

Most of all, I am thankful that it is now time for bed.

Good night.

Gratitude - Day 1

November is here and once again my friend Joy has inspired me to participate in a month long celebration of gratitude.  The goal is to acknowledge something I am thankful for each and every day of the month of November.  I am going to say at the outset I might not make everyday, but I am going to try!  I am a big believer in counting our blessings so this will be as good an exercise as any.  

Today I am thankful for a warm, dry home, food on the table, and an evening spent catching up with old friends.  

It's simple, but it's true.  This evening we had over for dinner a family whom we have known since Big J was an infant.  The mom and I met in a new mom's group with our tiny infant sons and we have remained friends ever since.  Even more wonderfully, our boys grew to be best friends and remain so almost 14 years later.  Along came our second sons and they too grew to be best of pals.  It is a friendship that has been a blessing on so many levels and it is always fun to get together with their whole family.  If only they would have had done us the favor of having a little girl to match up with Pumpkin... (just kidding, of course).

So that's it.  Just thankful for friendship.

How about you?  Wanna play along?