Thanksgiving is almost here. It’s time to count our blessings.
I’ve done some thinking and pondering on what I am thankful for this year.
My list includes: my children, family, friends, freedom, work, home and health, baby wipes, disinfecting wipes, fuzzy sweaters, high-octane coffee, dark chocolate, wine.
But there are other less obvious things, too.
Like, teachers with a sense of humor. Perhaps I have just misunderstood my son for the entire seven years of his life. I get calls and e-mails from his teachers, but (insofar) they have always started with, “I have to tell you what your son said today. He is so funny!” That gives me another perspective and for that I am thankful.
I am also thankful I have not forced my 3-year-old daughter to give up her pacifier yet. Now, don’t get on your soapbox; she isn’t taking her binky to preschool. The precious binky is only for nap time and bedtime. This gives me leverage. On the nights my sweet child doesn’t want to stay in her bed, but she wants her binky, I am granted Pacifier Power (aka the “no bed, no binky” rule). For this I am thankful. But the future orthodontist bills I probably won’t appreciate so much.
I’m grateful for Pillsbury Crescent Rolls, too. It’s no secret that I do not belong in a kitchen. I’m not nearly as creative (and probably twice as dangerous) as my should-have-been-a-chef husband. The kids will eat green beans when he cooks them, but not when I do. However, I can wrap anything in a crescent roll and make it taste yummy. For family dinners — even if the menu is pigs in a blanket — I am thankful.
I am grateful my daughter enjoys bath time. She will stay in the tub, splashing in the water until she looks like a raisin. Time-to-raisin is long enough for me to sit down (an added bonus albeit it’s on top of the commode) and fold a basket full of laundry. It probably won’t get put away, but it at least looks presentable.
And Legos; I am thankful for Legos, those pricey little blocks that click together to make anything you can imagine. While my sons do have video game consoles, the Legos still get more play-time. When the boys are playing with Legos, they are using their imaginations and they are not fighting. It’s amazing. I used to get suspicious when things got “too quiet” in our house. Not anymore. Who knew a storage tub full of little bricks would bring our boys together and provide some quiet time?
I mean after all, without quiet time, I’d have never learned to appreciate chocolate and wine.
Wishing you all a blessed Thanksgiving.
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