Many heart wrenching, worrying things I share with the majority of Americans; but much tickles my heart and warms me despite future uncertainty. I’m thankful and privileged to see such strength, determination, and love following the loop hole allowing a disgusting individual and his counterparts to represent the best of us. Unending gratitude social media exists to make me laugh despite the serious nature of what will transpire.
I’m grateful for Rachel Maddow. I’m grateful for John Oliver and Impractical Jokers.
I’m thankful my gray hair that is prospering in droves doesn’t look horrible. Its proliferation is uncertain, but I’ve always found the salt and pepper look attractive…Here’s hoping the same will hold true for me…in six months at this rate.
Unending appreciation that the almost 102 fever I had on Thanksgiving was short lived, and was not fortified by a nose cold. My husband is fighting something. I hope that bit of lovely decides I’m not a hospitable homestead.
I’m thankful my father-in-law saw fit to buy me a bar of one of my favorite brands of chocolate. It’s the dark variety too, so I feel the depth of his love for me. He is now my favorite person in the world…until someone else buys me chocolate, creating a more contemporary warmth in my thoughts.
I’m blessed to have found a less tedious pumpkin pie-like recipe. It was mighty tasty…especially as my breakfast yesterday…and this morning. It’s about time for a second helping. I’m thankful it occurred to me to buy extra whipped topping. In that same vein, profuse gratitude to my friend who made a chocolate cream pie to add to the Thanksgiving meal festivities. Pudding or not, it was chocolate and phenomenal…and was a welcomed breakfast addition to the pumpkin pie I ate yesterday.
My toddler hasn’t napped in two days, consequently has been a disaster for the second half of the day, stretching into the evening. Having family staying with us and generally surrounding him has my son elated in a vibrating giggle beginning at six sharp in the morning. We hear Little Man emerge from his room with the tell tale jingle from his horrid stuffed dog. Within seconds the sound becomes a scurry into our room. An enthusiastic, “hi,” with other random commentary before turning on our bright overhead light. If I’m honest, it is quite possibly the cutest wake-up call ever…I’m thankful I haven’t killed him…yet.
Warrior Queen has made every effort to crawl back into my uterus. I don’t know what happened, but she decided that anyone other than me holding her will not be the game plan for the day. What gets me is that she will be fine until she catches my gaze. Then the slow abhorrence of her situation consumes her face. That said, I’m thankful I’m too tired to be much bothered as the shrill wailing commences…for a few minutes anyway. At some point dogs will start circling, so I have to give in. At seven-months she mostly is all smiles, and I cannot measure my gratitude to be the recipient of some so grand that her whole face is enveloped.
I’m thankful for leggings, which look surprisingly acceptable under dresses. I don’t have it in me to wrangle stockings or tights, and it’s getting cold. Additionally, I’m thankful for flannel shirts. They are an easy way to add color and pattern to my otherwise black wardrobe. I get that black is sexy and all, and it certainly looks good on me, but I don’t quite pull-off Morticia…with gray-ing hair.
(I could fall asleep on that chair.)
That said, I pretty much nail the pasty look, and I don’t even need powder.
A final thanks to my husband who took our 2.7 year-old on an outing with his family, so I can rest. My fierce girl is sleeping in our office. I’m soaking in the brief quiet watching a knit/crochet program on television. The second pie helping was wonderful, as were the mashed potatoes and gravy. Sometimes I wish I could predict the future. I’ve never liked surprises, and these days I’d prefer to brace myself. But, while bad days loom, so do the good ones, and for that I am most thankful.