Thanksgiving thankfulness

I am thankful for SO many things. When it gets to this time of year -- when everyone is posting about gratefulness -- I find that I can't actually list them all.

I mean, there's my relationship with God (ever-evolving), my seriously amazing husband and friend, my beautiful boys, my sweet daughter, my supportive and loving parents, my wonderful family, my devoted friends, my awesome babysitter, financial stability, good health, a safe and happy home, a job I enjoy, etc. etc. etc. And those are just the big things. I could go on and on and on and on about the small things (heated seats, helllllooooo!) 

So I usually don't participate in the gratefulness postings. It sounds silly, but I just get overwhelmed by being grateful.

But after spending three days at my Mom and Dad's house this Thanksgiving holiday, I decided to post about three things for which I am grateful (Mom's sweet potato pie is always on the list, so just imagine that item as 1 a, b and c.)

1. I am grateful that my boys so LOVE being at their "Nana's house." All of my sisters' kids have lived with my parents for some period of time. So I always worried that our every-so-often visits to Mom and Dad's would never compare to actually living there, and that my kids would not be as comfortable running around their house as their cousins. Suffice it to say, I was so wrong. These boys think Nana's house is like Christmas, Halloween and birthday parties all rolled up in one. They have so much fun. And my Mom always finds ways to up the ante each visit. This weekend, she pulled out old costumes she had lying around and put them on Cary and Dean. The little dragon and the little doggie were the happiest two critters around! This makes my heart so glad! Just because we're the only ones who live more than 20 minutes away from my parents doesn't mean we miss out on all the fun. Hooray!

Having a very important discussion, clearly.

2. I am grateful that my sister Tahira enjoys doing little girls' hair (because I am still so bad at it). And that Clair sits still for the hair-and-beauty session. I am grateful that my sister, who is one of my best friends, loves my children so much. I am getting teary just thinking about it. (See? Getting overwhelmed!!! Ugh!)

Clair is going to have such a special relationship with her Auntie. It reminds me already of my relationship with my Aunt Fern, who I used to stare at, when I was a little girl, thinking, "She is the most beautiful, most stylish, most fun, most wonderful Auntie ever!"

 3. And I am grateful for my nieces and nephews, who are a loud and wild bunch, with attitudes and sassy personalities and who never, ever, ever sit still. But that's not why I'm grateful for them. I am grateful for them because -- despite having challenging lives and growing up way too fast -- they are still so super sweet. They love C, D and C to pieces. They give us all hugs and kisses and ask a zillion questions and are always so, so glad to see us. And this weekend, when the Davises put all our kids down for a nap (and decided to steal a few winks with them), 6-year-old Alahna put this note on our bedroom door.

Isn't that the sweetest? Good grief, those kids are sweet. (Getting overwhelmed again. Oy!)

We "lov" you, too Alahna. And all the rest of you crazy kids, too. And the whole darn family of crazies. And we're so, so grateful that you're in our lives.

Happy post-Thanksgiving all!

How I learned to love baby hiccups (or "Funny how life works...")

In early June, I posted a blog about something-or-other, and in it, I made a passing remark about how "this is why I know I do NOT want another baby."

That was June 3rd.

According to due date calculators, I got pregnant June 6th or 7th.

Go figure.

As many of you know, I was freaked OUT about this pregnancy. This was NOT in my plans for my family's life. This was NOT supposed to happen! How were we going to make this work? Three kids? Under age 2? Everything in our lives was already stretched -- from patience to space in the house to our (rapidly dwindling) finances. How could we possibly make this work?

For weeks, I was in denial about the pregnancy. And then, after the first sonogram at 8 weeks, I was less in denial, but more bitter. Why did this happen to me? I was happy with things the way they were! What was God trying to tell me?
I didn't tell people for many, many weeks because I wanted to try to get to a better frame of mind first. I had already blurted out my disappointment to one too many people. I knew I'd feel better as time went on and I didn't ever want people to think I didn't -- or wouldn't -- love this baby when he/she arrived.

I got over that disappointment quickly, and warmed up to the pregnancy. I jokingly dubbed this baby "Curve Ball" because that's exactly what she threw at us. I felt better about our situation, with prayer and with lots of reassurance from Lester and close friends and family that truly three kids was doable -- and even desirable, in some senses. I became...accepting.

But in the back of my head, I still worried a bit because I wasn't feeling the thrill of pregnancy that I had with the boys. Something was missing. What was it?!

Fast forward to yesterday, when I got home from work, sat on the floor with the boys on my lap, and read books. Cary or Dean, I can't remember which, got up to get something, and pushed hard against my belly. It didn't hurt, but I was conscious of how that must have felt to the baby. I waited to feel a retaliatory kick.

I waited. And waited. And nothing happened.

It occurred to me that I hadn't felt Curve Ball move since that morning, at a staff meeting. I thought about it: Normally, I feel her all day long. She is a very active baby, with a strong punch and a gymnast's kick. She especially likes it when I eat! Somersaults for at least 15 minutes after that!

So I went on about the night. Feeding the boys. Cleaning up dinner. Helping with bedtime. Talking to a friend on the phone. Reading a magazine. Watching "Modern Family."

No kicks.

Before bed, I pushed on my belly on both sides. I even decided to try a little sugar (despite my perinatologist's face scowling in my sub-conscious). I ate a small (very small) bowl of ice cream.

No kicks.

I woke up this morning, feeling refreshed because the boys (basically) slept through the night, I didn't have to get up to stuff myself with food because of blood sugar lows, and my acrobatic baby hadn't kept me up at night, kicking and rolling.

Wait. My baby hadn't kicked and rolled ALL night.

And just like that...

Just like that...

My feelings on having this baby changed from "accepting" to "wanting." In fact, I'd say "needing."

I don't just want this baby, my little daughter-to-be. I NEED her! I LOVE HER. So much.

My family would not be complete without her. She is already a part of us. I am not whole without her.

Lester and I prayed this morning for health and developmental progress and peace of mind.
We prayed for our family, our marriage, our desire to be better human beings, as God would want us to be. We prayed to be more trusting and faithful. We thanked God for all He has already done for us, and for the things He has yet to do.

We talked to Curve Ball and told her we loved her and needed her to get moving!

Lester laughed, on his way out of the room, that that is probably the last time we will beg a sleeping baby to wake up!

And on my way into work this morning, sitting in a bit of rainy-day traffic, Curve Ball leaned in and clocked me one!

I burst into tears.

Since breakfast -- and as I type -- she is moving like a crazy person! I think she has the hiccups.

It is the loveliest feeling in the world.