Here are a few lessons I’ve learned over this Pandemic Thanksgiving + start of Covid Christmastime: On the Wednesday before your it’s-just-us-this-year Thanksgiving, it’s really nice to cook the big meal with your kids while also not stressing about cleaning the house for company. …
It’s 7:15 on Sunday morning. I’ve just sat down on the couch with a newspaper and the first, and therefore most precious, cup of coffee of the day. Cian’s already here in the living room playing, and he abandons his toys when I sit to …
I saw somebody on Twitter mention that she couldn’t wait until November was over, because that meant all her friends’ “I’m so grateful for…” status updates on Facebook would finally stop. This made me think two things: a) I actually like those status updates, because awww, people can be so SWEET, and b) I need a life.
But because I’m trying to keep this post HAPPY HAPPY HAPPY (it’s the holidays! Fa la la!), I thought I’d give you my own list of thanks. So, in the spirit of one of the greatest holidays in American culture (I’m talking about Target opening at 8 a.m. tomorrow. What are you talking about?), here are some items in my life for which I am most grateful. Feel free to rant about me on Twitter while you stand in line to get that 30 percent-off mustache trimmer. I’ll be watching the kids race off their pumpkin pie highs on the lawn and hoping nobody breaks a leg.
So, to begin. I am thankful for:
- Extra sets of sheets, at three a.m., when a child announces that her bed is awfully wet.
- Children who eradicate the need for an alarm clock.
- The ability to walk a straight line and pour coffee after four-to-five hours of broken sleep.
- Tissues, when they are used instead of sleeves.
- That forgotten box of angel hair in the back of the pantry.
- The Cat in the Hat Knows a Lot about That, and the iPad on which the children can view it, far, far away from grown-up ears.
- The new gray hairs I’ve acquired that add a certain touch of elegance woven in among my months-old highlights.
- Crow’s feet that, if I squint hard enough, almost look like really pale, concealer-encrusted eyelashes.
- Enough clothes that there is always a pair of clean jeans to be found somewhere in the back of the closet. Even if those jeans are from 1996 and boot cut.
- Dust, for it reminds me to clean.
- Animal hair, for it reminds me to pet the animals. And vacuum.
- The vacuum.
- The coffee machine, for all obvious reasons.
- The fresh air that often wafts from our closed windows and unlit fireplace all days of the year.
- The little holder for a trash bag in my car, and the occasional good aim of a child in the back seat.
- The diaper pail, for all the obvious reasons.
- Swear words, and the capacity to think them without saying them.
- Prayer, and the foresight to ask for patience.
- Prayer again.
- My husband’s large shoes, because they spontaneously force me to do lunges and burpees (Get it? Because I trip over them?)
- Ponytail holders. Eyeglasses. Sneakers. Baseball caps. Yoga pants.
- The bottle opener.
- The corkscrew.