Of course I’m doing a post on gratitude. It’s Thanksgiving week. But I’m mixing it up. Over the past few days, I’ve been thinking of things I am really grateful for, but don’t really think about on a daily basis. Here are a few:
1. My son’s drawings. Simple, right? I empty out his backpack and am usually greeted by one or two art projects or photos. No matter how stressed or crazy I am at the moment – no matter what type of mood I’m in – I smile. Who wouldn’t? I gaze upon smiling suns, happy animals, and a child’s point of view. A happy child. There are no monsters yet in his closet, and I am grateful for that more than anyone can imagine.
2. My children like each other. This may change. For now, the occasional fight is nothing – my sons are literally best friends. They play for hours on end in the room with their toys and stuffed animals, in a word of their own making. They enjoy each other’s company. Dealing with two toddlers in diapers with bottles now seem so worth it when they sneak away on their own and I don’t hear from them as they engage in play.
3. My husband is a grown up . My husband does chores. He takes out the trash, does the dishes, cooks dinner and does all the laundry. He rarely complains. Sure, he’s messed up a lot, and we have our issues, but when I hear women complain about doing everything and feeling like a maid, I can only blink in surprise. I never feel that way. And I never have to ask him do something twice (unless it’s something really yukky). What a relief to have married a grown man and not a little kid I feel responsible for.
4. My dogs. I love my dogs. They are two pains in the asses but their presence is another layer of both chaos and happiness. I write and they keep my feet warm. They are always thrilled to see me, whether I arrive back from the mailbox or just exit the bathroom. They always seem surpised too. They offer a level of adoration not found in any other species.
5. My editors. This isn’t a kiss ass post. My editors have given me an opportunity I always dreamed of. To write. They like my stuff and buy it. Then they fix it so it’s good. And they’re nice. As a published writer, I fantasized about having actual editors in my life that believed in me, and I finally scored. They want me to succeed at all costs, and that makes them my very best friends.
There you go, folks. When I asked my boys what they were thankful for this was their response.
Older son: Turkey.
Younger son: Superheroes.
Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!