a mother's gratitude

Tuesday, November 22, 2016

I give thanks for this home that is more often than not disorganized and wrecked and a mess and broken and cluttered.  but also so obviously LIVED in and so obviously LOVED that we are forced to try our best to not let all the disorganized, wrecked, messy, broken, and cluttered parts get us down.

I give thanks for my kids' daddy, who heals any and all of our broken hearts and spirits with a hug,  who administers compliments and kindnesses like a Santa who needs no holiday, who has patience as vast as the sea for every single one of us in this home, and who leaves in the morning to work hard all day and returns each evening with his eyes beaming like a sailor who has returned to land; a Daddy who's favorite place in all the world is right here in our home with us.

I give thanks for this place that I can write and journal and lock away the memories of our life to be read later by me to laugh at how silly or beautiful or wonderful or meaningless or meaningful our tiny moments were all along.  For the friends I've made through this space, for all the support and the moments that made me feel like I wasn't entirely alone or insane in this weird journey of motherhood.  This space that someday, hopefully, our children will stumble upon and realize that their mother was more than just the cleaner-upper, laundry-folding, booboo-kissing, photograph-taking, rule-making, food-cooking blur in their childhoods - but actually like a real person who had thoughts and feelings and a life outside of the prism of Mom (well, only minimally since their arrival into the world, but still true.)

I give thanks for our family who show up without question and usually little notice to make things happen.  Who arrive with smiles and hugs and tool boxes and food and gifts and listening ears and support and a hand outstretched.  Who helped shape our memories as leading characters in the prologue, each and every chapter, and surely in the epilogues of our stories.  Who shrug off our flaws and love us despite (and sometimes because of) them.  Our family who can hear what we are saying before we even know what we are thinking.

I give thanks for our friends who still want to talk to me even though my text reply time is generally a 72 hour minimum.  Our friends who don't miss a beat even if the last time we talked without a child interrupting us has been years.  Friends who double our joys and share the burden of our worries.  Our friends who ask for no apologies, who forgive in spades, and who laugh along with us because life is hilarious and sometimes because the only way to get through it all is to laugh about it with someone you love.

I give thanks for the coffee, and the yoga pants, and clean bed sheets, and meal plans, and dependable wifi, and our van Sheila, and hot showers, and Netflix, and toaster strudel, and DVR, and working appliances, and for all the ingredients for dinner already in the house,  and glasses of wine (or bottles of beer), and scented candles, and cozy blankets.

I give thanks for naptime.

I give thanks for the phone camera roll filled with pictures of up-too-close selfies of flawless skinned faces that send my phone into 'storage almost filled' message alert fits, and the fridge cluttered and full of colorful drawings, paintings, scribbled names, and team pictures.  For our family yearbooks that hold memories of smiles that today's stresses have sadly pushed into the recesses of my mind.

I give thanks for the sweetest feeling in the deepest pit of my soul when little palms are placed on my cheeks with all the lovingkindness a child beholds.  For whispered, "i love you momma," and 'hold you,' For early morning snuggles with slow-to-wake kids that temporarily have forgotten that their 'too big' for snuggles from their momma.

I give thanks for these people who call me mum...they are little now, but someday they will be bigger than me, and though my gratitude list may look different in various ways, this one will remain.

I will never be done giving thanks for being their mum.

my darlings,
to be your mother
will always be
the greatest privilege
of my life.
i love you forever
even when you get so big,

happiest thanksgiving to you are yours.

1 comment:

  1. "and returns each evening with his eyes beaming like a sailor who has returned to land" ...utterly beautiful, Tabitha. So, so well said.

    And that last bit... about motherhood being your greatest privilege? I'm in tears.

    Yes to all of this. To the mess, the chaos, the family & friends showing up just when we need them, and for clean sheets. Best.feeling.ever.

    Love to you this holiday season & always!