Well, much to my shock, Thanksgiving is already here. I have no idea where the days have gone that have led me here, but here I am nonetheless.
Thanksgiving is probably my least favorite holiday. Sounds slightly offensive, I am sure, but it is true. The years of shuffling children and food from one house to the next has taken its toll. Balancing our time between families. Missing dinner with one side of the family or dessert with the other. Trying hard not to hurt anyone’s feelings. It is downright exhausting.
It seems that in all of the chaos of the day I often forget about why we celebrate the day to begin with. Oh yeah, it is to give thanks.
Gratitude is one of the keys to a fulfilling life, I believe. Taking the time to revel in the gifts of life is something I try to do often. I keep a gratitude journal on my nightstand. I thank God as often as possible for the blessings in my life. I am so grateful.
For some reason, however, on the day I am supposed to be giving thanks, all I can think about is, “When is this, very long, day going to end?”
No offense to my family of course. They are wonderful. I love them dearly. I believe I have just become a little cynical about this holiday. Maybe too many dinners with certain members of the extended family (who shall remain anonymous) sitting next to me complaining about everything going wrong in their lives. People who show no signs of gratitude.
A huge pet peeve of mine . . . people who are negative. Yet even in the moment that I say that I am sick of negativity at Thanksgiving, here I am being negative about it. I have become a hypocrite!
This year I will challenge myself to find gratitude on this day that I am supposed to give thanks.
Since this is a blog about my marriage, I thought it only appropriate to give thanks to my husband (in the event that I lose sight of my gratitude the moment the doorbell starts ringing and the tofu turkey is put in the oven).
Dear husband, I am thankful for:
Your dark blue t-shirt that hugs your chest just a little too tight.
Bedtime stories with the kids so that I can hear you make the silly voices.
How you pretend your taller than you actually are.
How you never give up hope that someday you will be able to slam dunk.
The sweet words of gratitude that you write to me every night.
The deodorant you wear that makes you smell delicious.
Your incessant motivation that makes me both love you and hate you at the same time.
The look of love that you give our children.
Your inability to keep your hands off of me most days.
Your ability to recognize the days that you better keep your hands off of me.
Your giddy weakness for sweets.
Your inability to walk up the stairs without tripping.
Your never-ending, and quite serious, hunt for the best cup of coffee.
Your blue eyes that still make me melt.
The magnetic pull you have toward injury that makes you the only man on the planet that has gotten a black eye from a pinata. Not the stick, but the actual pinata.
Your childish fight against going to bed.
Your uncontrollable laughter when watching SNL.
The way you can’t resist kissing me during a love scene in a movie.
I am most thankful for you this Thanksgiving. For all that you do for our family. For how you love me with all you have. For your dedication to our children. For all of your strengths and all of your weaknesses. For just being you. I love you.
(Sorry for the mushiness of this post. Just couldn’t help it)
Today’s lesson in improving your marriage: Gratitude