As a mother, every day is Thanksgiving to me. I am grateful when my family walks out the door at their varying times every morning and we all come back together for the mad scramble that is dinner each night. Amidst the kids’ taunting, the whining about science fair projects, and me on the very brink of falling apart myself, I stop to take note that everyone came home in one piece. That alone makes it a good day.
As much as I nag about my son’s socks on the floor, I’m thankful they’re still size 2 and even more so that they’re still here, in my home. He’s only on my watch for so long.
I can’t stand to see the teeny, tiny trinkets that cover my daughter’s dresser, a housekeeping nightmare. So often I skip right over the menagerie and save the dusting for another week. Still I smile when I examine each one closely and remember how I would have wanted a half-inch glass turtle as a seven-year-old girl. One day curling irons and pictures of boys will replace them.
When my nine-year-old son asked when I planned to stop reading to him at bedtime, my heart dropped to my knees. It’s the time of day when we can still snuggle like we’ve done since he was young. We talk and giggle and for a few minutes, he has no show to put on for anyone. Toughness and independence left at the door, he enjoys our time together. I’m not ready for it to end, but that day will come soon. For now, I’m ever so grateful for each night that he doesn’t announce our ritual is over.
I’m grateful for a daughter who puts her brother in his place. She’ll be a tough girl who doesn’t take it from anybody. And he’ll be a better man for it.
I love starting my day with a chaotic send-off to school. And just when I think everyone is too busy for good-byes, my son always turns back, buries his head in my gut, and hugs me tight. Then my daughter squeezes me with the strength of a python and bolts out the door, skipping and jumping.
They’re not too old for me, not yet.
For every meal I silently bless and sprinkle with a bit of hope that everyone will eat it, for every afternoon that I am grateful I held myself together when both kids pulled my emotions in every direction, for every odd and scary health mystery that turns out to be gas or eczema, for every tear wiped, for every hug, for every kiss, for every loud howl of laughter, for every moment of quiet broken by shouts for me, I am so grateful every day of my life.
20 responses to “A Mother’s Thanksgiving”
This is a precious post. I can so totally relate. Momaste to you!
Thanks. I put moms on it, but really, I hope most parents can relate.
Such a sweet post. My son has this thing where we have to wave to each other after he has gone into school until he is out of sight. I don’t care how silly it looks to others. Those are the moments we will remember and miss when he gets older. It’s the small things that mom’s are thankful for. Happy Thanksgiving!
So sweet. You hang on because one day he’ll be to embarrassed to do that!
What an awesome post. Thank you.
Lovely. Just lovely.
Very heartwarming especially on a day when my kids have driven me up a all wall! I sometimes wish they would just “grow up” already but then I realize I will never get this back! Here’s to be thankful EVERYday for what we have 🙂
It’s hard to remember sometimes, isn’t it? 😉
This is so sweet. I know as a mother you can get so tied up in so many different directions, but sometimes you gotta step back and look at the tiny things that fills your heart with gratitude. (:
Those little things add up, don’t they?
Amen. This is lovely.
Sweet words as usual, Karen. You write what some of us are unable to! I’ve been “enjoying” snuggle time with a sick child who has slept with me three nights in a row (very high fever). Though I’m thankful she’s on the mend, I’m a bit sad that my “needed” snuggles and doting is coming to an end.
Pingback: Lessons Learned (Vol. Seven) | ateachablemom
I am thankful for exactly the same things you are!! may the years our children stay around to drive us crazy and allow us to love them up never end! amen.
What a lovely, poignant post. Even more for me, since our youngest two are a few years older than yours – already in high school. But though they don’t need us as much and we don’t get to read to them at night anymore, they still hug us every day, sweet boys. I’m grateful for that. Thanks for the lovely essay.
Thanks. If mine still hug me every day in high school, the world will be a good place.
This is so touching because it’s so true. Thanks for making me appreciate all the trials of motherhood!
Ah, thanks so much! We mothers have a lot in common. 😉