Giving of Thanks

So American Thanksgiving is tomorrow. Regardless of the somewhat sordid history of how this holiday came to be in our great U S of A, it is a wonderful day to reflect on those things to be grateful for.

I am thankful. For my life. Each and every day I wake up. For seeing the sun rise and set. For each new experience. For my health, even when I have a cold or stomach ache--it could be worse. To live in a country that sees me as a full fledged citizen who can achieve all that I want if I'm willing to try.

I am thankful. For the roof over my head and the food I am able to put in my belly. I am grateful for a job that pays, while not very well, well enough to pay my bills and keep me feeling secure. Though the job is often stressful and exhausting, I still get a pay check twice a month. I realize there are so many people not as lucky as I am. I know.

I am thankful. For my incredible friends. Especially my closest. Whether they live close or far (too many live far...E, A, M, S...I'm looking at you). They hold me up. Steady my feet. Ground me. Keep me moving forward each and every day. Shoulders, ears, hearts, souls. I love them.

I am thankful. For my family. My parents are wonderful people, it took me far too long to realize that in adolescence. We do not always agree but we always love. They support me, even when I don't recognize the need. They are there, just in case I fall, while hoping I don't. They created me, encouraged me. They have faith in me. I can never repay them for their generosity. For my extended family, those related by blood or otherwise. A village raises a child. I've always loved having that village around me. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

I am thankful. For my husband. My other half. My best friend. Together for going on 6 years and married for over one. I have a hard time remembering life without him. Finishing each other's sentences. Thinking the same thoughts. Sometimes I forget we are two different people. He holds me when I need it and can tell how I'm feeling just by looking at my face. He is my constant rock. I take him for granted too often. I am grateful for him.

I am thankful. For my son. My beautiful little boy. Five months old and his first Thanksgiving. I'm thankful he came into the world healthy and has remained so. For each milestone he crosses. For the person he is steadily becoming. I am blessed far more than I can say to have this little soul in my life. To watch him grow and change. He has brought true purpose to my life.

Take a moment, tomorrow and always, to step back. Look around. What do you have to be thankful for?

Happy Thanksgiving.

These Days

My little boy will be four months old on Friday. It's amazing how quickly these tiny, little creatures grow. At this time last year, I didn't even know I was pregnant and now I have this boy. This amazing, sweet boy. We're taking bets on his pediatrician visit on Friday, I think he's at least 17.5 pounds at this point. Bubby says 18. We shall see.

We had some professional photos done on the 11th. The amazing photographer trekked to my mother's house and took the shots for us. They came out beautifully and I'm sure I'll be posting them periodically once I get the cd (the one above is from the shoot...I snagged it from her blog!...but I also paid for a digital copy of it for myself). Wiggly was really good, until he got tired. A good portion of the pictures he's conked out with a paci in his mouth. Poor kid. It was a big day.

He giggles now. As if the smiles didn't make me well up enough, now the giggles. My knees are like jello around him. And I thought first love as a teenager was rough, this love trumps it all. I have the urge all the time to be near him just. To touch his soft skin and snuggle him. I'm going to miss that when he grows up. His snuggles.

I must mention, although it is not about my child, my best friend in the whole world is having gall bladder surgery on Friday. Send up a prayer, a thought of good health and spirits for her. I'd appreciate it. I miss her. If there are soul mates, then she is my soul sister. Today we discovered we both owned embarrassing shoes in elementary school. That's awesome.

Bubby and I are fairing better these days. We needed some time. Some time to connect. Remember. Who WE are. This. This marriage. Our love. We're back. It feels good.

Although work is stressing. Especially right now, especially with a specific family I'm working with. Things are okay. I'm at peace.

Bubby's 25

Happy Birthday, Bubby. I love you.

Even when I'm grumpy.

Even when I forget to say so.

Even when I don't ask how you're doing or feeling.

Even when I'm mad.

I love you. Period. End of story. We're in this. Always.

You're 25 today. Can you believe you were only 19 when we met? Started dating. Babies, we were. We still have a long road to go. I'm glad you're my partner.

eh.

That pretty much describes my mood today. And that of last night.

Annoyed. Frustrated. Pissed off. Grumpy. Sad.

I think I need more sleep. My favorite idea right now is to curl up in bed with a warm blanket and sleep until next week, but, I know, full well, that cannot happen. Crawling out of my skin and hiding under a rock? Out of the question, too. Too much to do and a sweet little boy to care for. It's not his fault, he didn't choose to be dependent on me, but he is. He's the one bright light. His smile makes me feel better, but I can't be with him all day.

I don't want to work anymore. Not necessarily where I'm currently employed, but anywhere for that matter. I would even be happier if I could get a part time job. I want to spend more time with my son. We have a fantastic sitter, and I feel more than confident when leaving him there, it's just that I wish that was *my* job, not hers. She gets to see him all day, play with him, read to him, sing to him, watch him change. Apparently he rolled over a few times yesterday. He's only done that once at home and I didn't get to see it. I miss him, all day long.

I'm also upset about work. I do an incredibly difficult job and the people you work with can make or break this kind of work. Communication is not the strong suit of my agency and the work environment gets hard to navigate with out it. Blah. I wish they were a bit more understanding about my work hours and the fact I am a new mother and my priorities have changed. I'm still angry about an incident that occurred yesterday, and I think it is going to take some time to get over it. I've been angry for a few weeks at work, mostly over other coworkers and their actions or inactions. It is what it is.

I'm not feeling so great about where Bubby and I are at the moment either. I know he loves me, I really do. I just don't feel like we're connecting lately. He half listens, half answers, every other conversation revolves around his job. He's on business right now. And will be going again in a few weeks and then again a few weeks after that. Involuntary single parenthood is not my cup 'o tea.

So yeah. That's where I am today. Could be somewhere completely different tomorrow, and hopefully I will be. Maybe I'm PMSing...one can hope.

Anniversary

Yesterday was our first wedding anniversary. Bubby and I have been together for well over five years but married for one. I'm not sure where time goes. I don't think we realized on the day we were wed, how different our lives would be just one year later.

I feel as though I should really express how amazing my husband is. Because, frankly, he is. And I don't tell him often enough.

We began dating when we were going to two different universities more than a hundred miles apart (127 miles on the highway!). He once surprised me to front row tickets to a concert I was desperate to see. We danced through the whole thing. One summer, we watched a meteor shower while at the beach, curled around each other in the sand. My last semester, he was not attending school and came to visit me EVERY weekend. For Valentine's Day that year, he bought me 9 dozen roses, cooked me dinner and bought me a board game. He's not always that romantic, but the brownie points from that will most likely last for at least the next few decades. The marriage proposal didn't hurt either...

It's not the big grand gestures that matter most to me, though. It's the little things. It's the kiss and "I love you" when he leaves for work. It's the big hug and "I missed you" when he returns home. It's the calls in the middle of the afternoon just to tell me he he's thinking of me. It's the way he looks at our son when they're cuddled on the couch. It's the way he listens when he knows I've had a rough day. It's the way he worries about me when I go to work. It's the way he doted on me during my pregnancy, even when I was not very nice. It's how he tucked me into bed when my belly was so big and my back hurt too bad to share our queen sized bed with anyone, even him. It's for making me laugh everyday. It's how he plays with our dogs, after he's had a long day at work. It's the dreams of the future we've always shared. It's the joy he expresses over being a father. It's how he sacrifices fun to do well at work to provide for our family. It's the respect he gives me. The loyalty I never have to question. The honor he shows as a man and husband and father. It's how he makes sure I know I'm loved every minute of every day of my life.

He's wonderful. And I'm incredibly lucky to have him by my side. Happy Anniversary, Bubby.