[Substitute for] Thirty Days of Thanks

Let’s be honest.  Sheaff and I attempting to do anything 30 days in a row would be laughable at the least. All of our brain power involving consistent tasks is now being directed toward bedtime, during which we have become more superstitious than baseball players, convinced that very small and random aspects of our routine play a part in Adalyn sleeping through the night.  Everything from the lucky onesie to which sound machine noise we put on to which book we read last (The Very Hungry Caterpillar, of course).  Soon we’ll be tapping a bat to our heel five times and spitting twice before laying her in the crib. Does it matter if we are successful? *sound of laughter* No, what matters is that we pretend like we have as much control as possible in order to hang on to that loose strand of sanity waving in the winds of parenthood.

I digress.  As many of you may know, November’s Facebook Newsfeed is full of two things: men with frightening mustaches and thankfulness (the former very rarely showing up in context of the latter). An attitude of gratitude is certainly something people could employ 12 months out of the year, but who wants to be that mushy and positive year round? Perhaps limiting our expressions of thankfulness to 30 days is suitable. At any rate, Sheaff and I decided that we ought to think up what we are thankful for this year, too, before the 30 days are up. Our list looked a little something like this:

-pajamas with stickums on the footsies
-Wallie’s patience as Adalyn continues to find new ways to “love the puppy” (Find Wallie in the pic)

-a neighborhood with sidewalks and people who wave and know our dog by name
-cardboard books, which have allowed us to keep reading often without continual scotch-tape spinal (har har, get it?) operations
-Old Mill, and PBR – for families on a budget who still need beer
-chasing our child around, because it means she is healthy and happy and here
-flu shots (the effects, not the issuing of…)
-Jabari Parker and Rodney Hood, and ESPN mobile which allows Sheaff to rock Adalyn to sleep during Duke games peacefully
-a library 2 minutes away that smells of childhood and book covers
-hand-me-downs, from clothes to toys to books; their worn edges and soft fabric are a daily reminder of friends and memories and kindness
-Modern Family and other 20 minute shows that make us laugh
-Kroger coupons
-pen pals; a postcard from Adalyn’s friend Caroline in Ga or an email from my old roommates half way across the world comparing motherhood notes makes the distance smaller, and our world bigger.
-sweatpants and any other clothes with elastic where you really need it
-the halls of Pearson Cancer Center, where a shout of “Sparkle’s here!” reminds us that there will always be family within those walls
-a child who loves to play in the dirt and sand and leaves 

-naptimes
-booger suckers
-playdates…there is nothing like a floor full of toys, chubby arms and legs, drooling babbling babies and parents trying to convince our newborns to share (we can’t help it!)
-our enthusiastic vacuum named Wallie
-a partner with whom to raise our family; in my case, a husband who walks in the door, asks what he can do to help, alternates rocking her in the middle of the night, chases her on her hands and knees around the house causing ridiculous screams and giggles, holds her down with zorberts while wrestling her into a diaper, stacks piles of books under the crib mattress when there is a cold, and continues to pursue a rigorous snuggle training. 

We could have kept going with our “Thankful List,” but Adalyn spotted the shiny pen and crinkly paper with which I was recording it, and her not getting them did not go over well.  

Anyway, the one thing that seems to be most consistent on people’s November Lists is family.

Adalyn rarely goes a day without this, and I hope one day that she too knows how lucky she is to have this incredible support system.  I see the beautiful headboards Chris made for “The Grandkids” room and Adalyn crawling around on their back porch, watching the rain pour down. I see her climb every stair set with Pops, his glasses duck taped where she had played with them one too many times; I see Adalyn sprawled out in Granny’s homey office, math manipulatives and the LC nametags as her toys. I see her joyously climbing through every cat contraption at Jordan and Stephanie’s much to Luna’s dismay, and her shrieking nonsense to Ty and Casey about Gladys. I see her grab the frame that has Sam and Evy’s picture in it and start clapping, because she knows they are family too, and Declan bringing her a hand-made card at our next blg gathering. She has great grandmothers and papa, aunts, uncles, friends, second and third cousins, babysitters, LC friends….blood and beyond; she has family.  Everywhere this child turns, there is a hand to hold, a smile to mirror, arms to sink into. Everywhere Sheaff and I turn, there is someone to call, friends to see, stories to share.

When we found out we were pregnant, Sheaff found a coaster and gave it to me; it said “They say it takes a village to raise a baby, but nobody tells you where it is or how to get there.”  It makes us laugh, but the truth is, it does take a village…but ours is never hard to find: it is all around us.

And for that, every single day of the year, we are grateful.

Happy Thanksgiving folks.