Thanksgiving

This is what I love about this life.

You can drag yourself through your days by your fingernails, count down minutes until your husband comes home, feel as though in every instant, you are barely making it.

And on those same days – those very same days – you can look around in wonder at all that you have to be grateful for, you can feel as though you have so much, surrounding you at every minute, that it’s hard to believe it can all be packed into one tiny house, one small life.

This year has been a challenge, although I like to think of it, in my better moments, as a growing year.  But I have a turkey brining in my refrigerator and best friends coming to Thanksgiving dinner.  My mother and my brother and sister are having Thanksgiving together in Chicago, a half a nation away, and they are making mincemeat from scratch and my sister has named their turkey Brangelina and I am both grateful that I do not have to eat the mincemeat experiment and at the same time so grateful that these crazy hopeful fun people are my family, that my mother answers the phone when I call her fourteen times with turkey questions and that my sister names the turkeys every year.   I am profoundly grateful for my first little house that we bought this year, for my country, my new about to be president, for the Real Housewives of Atlanta with their fake hair and their botox, and for all of you, for all of your help and suggestions and reading and commenting and saying “Me too” whenever I need to hear it, hanging in there with me.

I am grateful beyond measure for my husband, a man of such patience and fortitude he should be studied for medical science.  I sometimes forget that not everyone is married to someone who would let them brine a turkey in the vegetable bin of the refrigerator with nary an eye roll.  I sometimes forget that it’s a gift, to have someone in my life who, confronted with the crazy making whirlwind that is me, says nothing more than “What this Thanksgiving needs is more jello.”

But most of all, I am grateful for my boy. My tiny, frustrating, stubborn, willful, charming, adorable, tantrumy, lovely and amazing boy.  He’s the tops.  My turkey dinner, all year round.

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8 Responses

  1. Brangelina is an excellent name for a turkey.

    Happy Thanksgiving!

  2. I miss doing the American Thanksgiving thing – we did it all the time when my father was alive and when he died so did that tradition.

    I wish I had your husband – mine would FREAK if I let a turkey brine in the fridge like that – bust seriously how else are you supposed to do it?

  3. I seriously needed to read a happy post, so I’m thankful for your post dear.

    I hope you have a fabulous T-day.

  4. What a sweet and lovely post. Life is good.

    Also, what a brilliant brining idea. Have you considered patenting it?

  5. In the VEGETABLE BIN. That is GENIUS. I was just reading Catherine Newman’s caramel corn recipe (seriously? am I seriously mentioning Catherine Newman TWICE in one week?) and she said to make it in a clean sink if you didn’t have a large enough bowl, and now I’m thinking I’ll take out the vegetable drawer and use THAT as a bowl.

  6. was just getting ready to write my own post about all those lovely little things in life that i’m thankful for. it’s fun to read what other people are thankful for, too.

    hope your thanksgiving is fabulous!!

    and it is SO AWESOME that your sister named the turkey Brangelina!!

  7. Oh. I love ya’, girL!

  8. Happy belated thanksgiving! I’ve been catching up on your blog and am happy that things are looking up- Eli gained weight! Yay! But… *giggle* Levitra *giggle*

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