Although I am behind everyone else on the Thanksgiving lists of things for which we are thankful, I have spent a considerable amount of time thinking about that for which I am thankful; in fact, I spend an incredible amount of time doing so. However, with an awesome amount of orders to fill for my crafting business, Thanksgiving projects to work on with Miss Mouse, and an impromptu Thanksgiving meal to prepare*....I haven't gotten around to posting much about what I have been thinking! Anyway, I thought I would use a pictorial method to explain what has been filling up my time, my life, and my heart these days.
---*Mr. T prepared the beautiful (and time consuming) rolled roast for Thanksgiving dinner, stuffed with homemade cornbread stuffing (my contribution), so it wasn't really like I had to prepare a whole turkey or anything! Ahem. Anyway.
I am thankful for my husband, who, though he is a "city boy", wears Red Wing boots, changes the oil on our cars himself, provides meat for us himself - from start to finish, would outlast any Boy Scout in the backwoods, and still manages to cuddle his girls and do some really mean ponytail-fixing.
Not only am I thankful for this cranberry pie, which was made from fresh cranberries and was crustless, sort of like a big, cranberry cookie, but I am thankful for the ability to need a Thanksgiving meal at the last minute and have the resources to provide it for my family. The time, the strength, the finances, all of those things are not to be taken for granted. It seems the older I get, the more experienced I get, perhaps, the more I realize I am just a freak accident or debilitating illness away from not having those resources at my fingertips.
Remaining signs of life under the white, insulating blanket....These remind me and help me remind the girls that spring will come again.
Similarly, I am thankful for the seasons, the ebb and flow of life that we are privilege to view living here. I love the new birth of spring, the heat and growth of summer, the glorious harvest of autumn, and the silence, the stillness, the rest of winter.
Even in the deepest winter cold......
....diapers must be freshened.
Yet I'm very aware that I freshen these diapers, these very fancy,
fancy cloth diapers because I want to, because I believe it is better for our environment, because I don't want to fill up the already overflowing, stinky landfill in town anymore than I have to, because I actually like the rhythm diaper-laundering gives to my life.......and because I feel a connection to mothers before me when I hang them out to freshen in the winter or to dry in the summer......
Still.....I'm well aware that the connection I dream of exists on the part of my
choice, my
privilege and my grandmothers' and great-grandmothers'
necessity.
Papa, my Dad's dad, talked sometimes about his wife, my Grandma, whom I never met, freeze-drying diapers in the winter. I like to think she took some pride in the fresh, clean, frozen, sparkling white diapers on her clotheslines; and that makes me feel proud of our cloth-diaper choice, even when it isn't the easiest choice.
The thing is, though, that our choice still comes back to our abundance. Yes, we have saved an amazing amount of money using these diapers as long as we have, but we had to make the investment initially. And that we made because we could. For that, again, every time I wring out a rinsed, soggy, earthy-smelling diaper to go in the washing machine, I am thankful.
It has been easy for me, this fall, to become ungrateful. I miss my husband at mealtimes when he is at work; it breaks my heart to hear Miss Mouse refuse supper, when her Daddy
is actually able to take a supper break, saying that maybe if she doesn't eat supper, he won't have to go back to work for the evening. Ungratefulness settles itself in my heart and mind fairly easily from September on here, at least in relation to that topic.
In an effort to help us
all deal with hectic schedules, too many meetings, too late work nights, I've decided suppertime is special here. We eat by candelight, with cloth napkins (kind of going again to the try-not-to-fill-up-the-landfill idea, too) and placemats. Even when Mr. T isn't home, the girls and I enjoy the candlelight and, for now, Christmas music. It's hard to feel ungrateful when Bing Crosby is singing in the background and candles are flickering on the table. In my opinion, it has helped us end our day on a thankful note, rather than on a hectic, frustrated, everyone-wants-a-piece-of-mommy note.
Obviously, this isn't the best picture ever. None of the ones that follow will be, but they are important to my point in this post.
I am incredibly thankful for the ability to have taken this picture. On the basic level of the fact that my Mice know both of their grandmas. That's not something I ever experienced, so for that basic privilege, I am very thankful. The relationship I've had with the one Grandma I have known is amazing, lovely. The relationship I have been privileged to have with Mr. T's Grandma Dorothy is also something for which I'm grateful.
This picture was taken at a community Christmas show in our "old hometown", so to speak. My parents, Mr. T, the girls, and I journeyed down there on Saturday night to take in the program. It was wonderful, as we expected. Very few participants are actually trained musicians. There are a few music teachers in the crowd, but for the most part, the soloists, the band members, everyone, are "just" farmers, businesspeople - regular, average people that we know because we lived there and met them on the street.....and they are amazing. Absolutely amazing. Not only is it great that we are able to take in the talent in that area, it is truly awesome that we are welcomed back with open arms.
As we drove into town Saturday night, the Christmas decorations on the streetlights reminded me of how it felt returning there after being home for Christmas (well, the week after - Christmas was always, obviously, spent in town); when we would get home, the decorations which were still up for New Year's, were like a comforting blanket. It always felt like coming home there. I'm not sure that's a feeling many people get twice in a lifetime, but I did, and to some extent, still do. For that, I am grateful.
Yes, indeed, I'm thankful for Grandmas! Not only when they buy Christmas dresses, of course, but it certainly is fun!!! Grandma Kathy has such a great "shopping" eye, finding adorable bargains all over the place! I'm also thankful that we live so close to at least one set of grandparents. Although it is hard to be a difficult day's drive (with children it is difficult, anyway) from my parents, it is so wonderful to be within a couple hours of my in-laws.
The simple things about the holidays.....I'm making an intentional effort to slow our holidays down, to stop any pointless running around as much as possible, to just slow down....because I am convinced that in the slowness is where the most important things take place. Like constructing an entire "tivity set" from random toys, and appointing oneself as "Mary". As a sidenote, an oversized Winnie the Pooh was appointed as Joseph.
I'm not sure what Sunny Baby Mouse is gaining or learning directly from running around with a mixing bowl on her head, but deep within me, something tells me it is much more important than anything a television program or scheduled, regimented "toddler playtime" that we'd break our necks and pocketbooks running to could teach her.
They are watching their bunk beds be constructed. I am intensely grateful for, again, the finances required to provide beds for our family. Mr. T worked with a program at church where beds were provided to those without, and it shocked me to realize how many families, even here, do not have beds on which their little ones can lay their heads. Humbling.
To sandwich all the rest of my thankfulness between the most important beings in my life, I will end with The Mice. Between their Daddy and them, life is full; it is good; it is as complete as it will be here on earth. For them, and for all our incredibly supportive, loving family, I am full of gratitude.
