I love the holidays. No seriously, I do. For a quality time junkie, holidays are like Christmas. Wait… Christmas is a holiday. Well that was redundant.
But seriously, Thanksgiving is no exception. Ingratitude is one of my pet peeves, and all too often I find myself doing one of the things I hate seeing in other people. Thanksgiving gives me a chance to bring it all in, stop whining about the oil bill, the crazy schedule, and the dirty diapers, and remember that I’m really so blessed it’s ridiculous. To outsiders, we’re *that* family: great marriage, great kids, great church, volunteering, gymnastics classes, swagger wagon – yeah, it’s that bad.
Side note: To make you feel better and not hate me, I will share a scenario from yesterday afternoon. A friend decided to drop off some bread for us. I didn’t hear her knock, so she just came in. Goo greeted her at the door. Totally naked. I had just taken a shower. It was 3 pm. You’re welcome.
Anyway. Holidays are very different before and after children, and Thanksgiving is no exception. I’m blessed to have the most amazing in-law family ever, and we generally have Thanksgiving dinner at an aunt’s house. This is amazing because there is no cooking or cleaning for me. Don’t hate.
But this particular house looks like it came out of an Ethan Allen magazine. My children are kind of feral. Things can get stressful. But she keeps inviting us back, so the therapy must be working…
Before I digress further, I give you a glimpse into the great American holiday, before and after children.
From our mediocre family to yours, Happy Thanksgiving!
