Everyone is thankful for something. Even on the day of Thanksgiving, when 40 members of your family are talking loud, complaining about the food temp, and wondering "out loud" if the serving dish used for stuffing belongs to them.
As much as my family and close friends may test the limit of my nerves, I still say a silent prayer of thanks. It's not a prayer you may be used to hearing. In the chaos of the holidays before I let myself utter or think, "THIS IS THE LAST TIME I'M COOKING THANKSGIVING!" I stop (obsessing), drop (the attitude), and roll (add Parker House to my grocery list) and instead say, "Thank you."
Thank you for a husband who helps with everything and doesn't complain about it (to me anyway). Who doesn't mind coming in second to so many things; work, kids, friends, sisters, the "Housewives" of BRAVO TV, dad. Who just like me rolls his eyes when people talk about "soul mates." Because it's more important for us to be mates. We can save the soul part for the afterlife. We've built a life together. It took us a while to finish the foundation but when we did, the rest just sort of fell into place.
Thank you for a 16 year old who still talks to me and talks back to me. A boy/man who is trying to find his way and his identity. And a boy who still let's his mama run the bases with him when life throws a curve ball.
Thank you for a 12 year old who is so much smarter than all of us but doesn't rub it in. My youngest babe who makes very grown up observations like, "You know the 'E' means you should stop and get gas?" or "Why are you always trying to lose weight? You don't need to lose weight!" Oh! And he still loves to snuggle while watching "Elf" this time of year.
Thank you for my sisters and brothers, those connected by blood and those connected through life. This island of misfit toys would be no fun at all without each of them.
Thank you for my mother-in-law. Yes, you read that right. I'm thankful that she accepts me for who I am, messy kitchen and all.
Most of all though, thank you for time. Time to get to know my dad all over again. Time that makes me appreciate how he takes idioms and makes them his own. Example, "Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, you're an a#<hole." Thank you for the dementia that changes our dynamic on a daily basis. Because while he will inevitably forget many things, his family will remember for him.
For these reasons and so many more, I'm truly thankful.