Perhaps at Thanksgiving more than any other time of the year, I am just overwhelmed with the amazingness of my immediate, under-this-roof family. And I would double that feeling this year. As of Thanksgiving last year, I was 38 weeks, 4 days pregnant. I went into labor the following evening and LittleBrother officially joined our family on that Saturday after Thanksgiving. The boys were due the day after (BB) and the week after (LB) Thanksgiving and, so, it is probably expected that I am filled with love and memories and general feelings of thankfulness for their existence around this beautiful holiday.
A year ago, my life was nothing like it is today. I was uncomfortable. And huge. And chasing a newly-turned two year old around while uncomfortable and huge. It was no easy task. Now, less huge, I am chasing a newly-turned three year old and a newly-turned one year old around and around and around. And sometimes they chase me back. And we laugh. And we cry. And we learn. And we change. FireDad and I have both been experienced great opportunity this year; he has been teaching many fire classes and I’ve been writing and writing and writing. It’s been an amazing year.
As I put my two boys to bed last night, I was amazed at the changes we have been through this year. Good. Hard. Indifferent. The growth, itself, has been amazing. BigBrother no longer possesses those baby cheeks. LittleBrother is no longer a newborn. Or a baby as he’s technically a toddler. It’s just amazing.
Today we’re off to The Farm to celebrate Thanksgiving with my family. And we’ll be thankful. Even when BigBrother won’t eat the food. Or LittleBrother throws up on my sweater. Or FireDad makes an inappropriate joke in front of Great-Grandma. We’ll be thankful for it all. For we are so very blessed.
Happy Thanksgiving! (And Love Thursday!)