How is Your Husband Like a Bikini?

People shop for a bathing suit with more care than they do a husband or wife. The rules are the same. Look for something you'll feel comfortable wearing. Allow for room to grow.
~Erma Bombeck


Day Thirty: For the last twenty-nine days my husband has asked about, implied that, mentioned, noted, etc. that his poor little name was not posted somewhere on this blog. Little comments like, "Could be thankful for your husband!" have permeated my days. Part of me has wanted to dig in my heels, stick out my tongue, and tell him to go screw- if you have to ask for it, you probably don't deserve it! However, despite my aggravation, irritation, and frustration with him, he deserves some notice...even if only a paragraph or so.


I have a theory that marriage doesn't have to be perfect or even gloriously happy; it has to be a state where for at least four days out of every seven, you're good with it. If it goes the other way, say you're only good two or three days, then there's a problem. But really, anyone who says their marriage is perfect is either lying, drunk, or missing their frontal lobe (or any combination thereof). With that said, after 12 1/2 years of marriage and 16+ total years of partnership, Aaron is still ok four days out of every seven. Some weeks are better than others, but, overall, I am grateful to have him in my life...especially now that the last decade-plus worth of his training is finally paying off! He has given me a beautiful home, four incredible children, plenty of ammunition with which to make fun of him, a couple great pairs of earrings, an awesome wool coat, and, most of all, someone with whom I know that, for better or worse, I can share my world and everything in it for as long as I can see in the future. That has to be worth at least 30 days of thanks in and of itself.

Who are the people in your neighborhood?

One day I will stay awake long enough to do these on the day they should be done instead of playing catch up every three days. Although, honestly, catching up is the story of my life- in laundry, work, etc. So really, why should this be any different? Fortunately, none of you expect too much from me- ha ha- so I am not feeling too terribly guilty about making you wait for my profound insights.

I am going to save today's thanks for this evening; I have been thinking about it for days and need to mull over some more just how I want to go about writing it. However, the other two days missing from my roster are fresh in mind and ready to go:

Day Twenty-Eight: As every good Italian should, I have a huge amount of family (beyond my immediate circle at home) spread out from sibling to parents to cousins, aunts and uncles, second cousins, step-cousins, great-aunts, great-uncles, first cousins once removed, etc. There are some I speak with frequently, some that I don't, some I don't really ever want to speak with, and some who I miss terribly. Regardless of how I feel about them or they about me, though, I am thankful to have them in my life. They have helped to shape my view of the world, of myself, and of my future. Without them, for better or worse, I wouldn't have the values that I hold and the belief system that I hold dear. Everyone should have the opportunity to see so many ideas and perspectives in the people in their life; these differences and the gaps between are what allow us to see who we really are and what we really want to be. I am grateful to have had these people in my life over the years and now; they are family.

Day Twenty-Nine: My boys, oh, my boys. They really each should have gotten their own day, but it didn't work out. So you will have to suffer through a longer thanks today for the boys in my world.

I must start with Uilleam, my littlest man. He came into the world on his own terms and has lived every minute since in the same way. I told my mother after he was born that he is in my life to show me that I cannot continue to think that everything will go as planned- the way I planned. He has proven that to me over and over again. He is a love, my monkey, and is the happiest child I know. He has brought to all of us more smiles than we could imagine possible. He is doted on by his brothers and sister and loves them unconditionally in return, with wide arms and an even wider grin. I could not imagine my life without this little monster in it; he is a miracle, truly, of science and will, and I am eternally thankful for his existence.

Connlaodh is a tough nut. He wears his world on his sleeve, for better or worse. He doesn't play games, doesn't try to hide anything, doesn't care what the world thinks- he is who he is. He is stubborn (can't imagine where that comes from) and this drives me nuts! But what he also does is show the most unabashed love and concern and affection than almost anyone I know. He is the one who, in the midst of the chaos that is our ride home from school, will call out, "Mom!" To which I will answer, exasperated, "What, Connlaodh?" And the response I get, sincere in its glee and passion is, "'I LOVE YOU SOOOOOOO MUCH." He makes me laugh, brings me to tears with his innocence, and makes me feel like a kid again, watching him see everything anew and in a different way than his brother and sister did before him. My brother bear, my big guy. My Connlaodh. Totally open, totally unafraid, totally love.

My oldest child, my first born. Taidhgin. I have spoken of him before, but he deserves another set of remarks. He is such an old man in there, so pensive and thoughtful. On so many levels he is an 8 year old boy (and a dork at that), but beyond the DSi, past the TV, far above the coolmath.com entertainment, he is a man beyond his years. Thoughtful, sensitive, concerned about the world around him, he is always the one of the four who wonders how the other person feels and how he would feel in the same position. He forgives without a second thought the people who hurt him; he doesn't ask for people to make it up to him, he always assumes people are doing the best that they can with what they can. It pains me sometimes because I can see how he could be hurt in the future by people who will take advantage of his good nature, but then I hope that he continues to hold onto it, because people as good as him are few and far between.

Clark! I don't want to spend the holidays dead!

Clark: Our holidays were always such a mess.
Clark Sr.: Oh, yeah.
Clark: How'd you get through it?
Clark Sr.: I had a lot of help from Jack Daniels.

(National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation, 1989)

Day Twenty-Seven: And we're off and running, folks. The turkey leftovers are picked over, the cranberry sauce has been discarded, the stuffing is nothing but bread crumbs and raisin bits, and the kids are clamoring for snow, tinsel, trees, and candy canes. We were barely off the plane last night before Eibhlin was asking if we could decorate today, downstairs tree and all. As if we didn't have enough to do, right?! But what is a parent to do when, every year that her children have been alive, the Sunday after Thanksgiving has transformed our home from la-di-dah to a winter wonderland? That parent says sure, hon, we'll start right after breakfast...and that is what they do.

We spent the entire day today decorating the house, replacing old/broken bulbs, and buying new goodies for the outside light display. We carefully placed glass balls and candles on the tree, contemplated the proper placement of each and every candy-cane covered piece of house decor that has spent the last 11 months trapped in a box beneath the stairs. We discussed the impact of placing the glitter ornaments near the lights on their overall aesthetic appeal, we hung lights and garland on the staircase, placed stockings on the mantel, and draped lights on the bushes and trees out front. Dead tired from travel and decorating, we finally finished. The house was done. Nothing else got done today, but the Christmas decorations are perfectly hung and we are ready for four weeks of "Jingle Bells" and "Rudolph".

The best part of my day was not the decorating, despite what I may have lead you to believe (with my narrative above heavily coated with sarcasm and molasses). On the contrary, the decorating gives me a migraine and makes me wish I could justify drinking at lunch. However, I love that the kids all got into it- where to move the furniture, hang the Christmas card holder, etc- and that for them, this IS what the Sunday after Thanksgiving is about. For them, this tradition, it helps define when what the season is in their minds- it is NOW and it is family. And so even if this only lasts until they have flown (or escaped!) from the nest and go out to make memories and traditions of their own, I am thankful to have this for as long as we can- headache and all.

There is no place like home.

No matter how dreary and gray our homes are, we people of flesh and blood would rather live there than in any other country, be it ever so beautiful. There is no place like home. - L. Frank Baum, The Wizard of Oz

Happy freaking holidays, my friends! After a whirlwind Friday and a day of flying today, I am finally able to sit down and think for a moment. I am not saying I am going to get anywhere with it, by any means. But it's nice to sip a glass of wine in a relatively silent home and actually let some thoughts solidify instead of maintaining their typically ethereal quality in my mind. With that being said, I am done- after several days of travel, family, and friends, I am ready to tuck myself in for the night. So quickly, but just as meaningfully as always, I'd like to share my thanks with you.

Day Twenty-Five: Every year, on the Friday after Thanksgiving, we get together with Aaron's friends from Franklin and their families. Every year since 2003, the number of people has increased by an exponential amount. What began as a group of 12-13 couples (depending on the year), has turned into 12-13 couples with nearly 40 children among them! Every year we force the kids into groups of mixed ages and genders and not necessarily filled with kids they already know...and yet, every year, I am amazed at how easily they all work together and play together and enjoy each other's company. Not an argument, not a complaint, lots of sharing and playing- it's as if the friendship of their parents is so entrenched in their genes that they have no option other than to like each other. I think of all the possible outcomes of this mixed group and am so thankful for the fact that we were all given these children who are so fun and filled with life and love and who are continuing on a legacy of good people and solid, sound friendship.

Day Twenty-Six: Home. Home is what I am thankful for today. Not my house, my address, my couch or my bed, but the feeling of driving down the interstate, heading south from the airport, and knowing that every minute is a minute closer to your zone of comfort, of your own belongings and own space, your own time and your own world. Traveling is wonderful, and we are so grateful to have the chance and money available to travel as much as we do to see family, see friends, go on vacation, etc. However, no matter how much fun we have, no matter how much love is given and received, no matter how many sights we see, beaches we roam, dinners out we eat, nothing beats coming home. Home is not where your house is, home is not where you park your car. Home is not where your mail is delivered and where your pets run free. Home is where you can lay on the couch, in front of the fire, and feel whole and at peace. Good night, my friends. I am home.

Let the Festivities Begin!

Between work and traveling and generally being upside and inside out (i.e. being a working of mom with more children and pets than she can count), I have once again become delayed in posting my thanks. However, on the morn of this day of thanks, I find myself with a few brief moments in which I can share my thanks and provide you with some words to ponder on this fine, fine day. Working from the first missed day...

Day Twenty-Two: From the time we left our house to the time we arrived in Franklin, MA, the kids had endured almost 12 hours of travel time. While they've done that before, it's never fun. However, my children- my wonderful, amazing children- are such seasoned travelers that they made the trip more than bearable. They buckled each other in, worked on worksheets, read books, listened to music, followed maps, and generally just traveled as well as- if not better than- the adults I know. Were my children more of the type Bill Cosby made famous ("Jeffrey, Jeffrey, Jeffrey!"), I am fairly certain that none of our family up north would ever see my children. Love my jet-setting babies!

Day Twenty-Three: We spent the morning with my old friend and her husband who drove all the way up from Bristol, RI to pay us a short visit. Wow. We had a wonderful time, a lot of laughs, a few dismissed tears, and, in general, picked up where we left off last time...and from where we began in 1983. This visit started off a day of peace, fun, and relaxation- something that does not often happen when traveling over the holidays. For all of this, I am truly thankful...and lucky...and I promise I am not drinking as I write this.

Day Twenty-Four: This morning I am feeling a little more pensive, a little more quiet, and a little more reflective. I keep thinking that there is something that should mark today a more significant day of thanks, one that makes the others look like thumbtacks in a box full of railroad spikes. I have been wracking my brain, searching for the ultimate "thanks". There is none, my friends. Every day is a day of thanks and every day deserves equal time and thought. But for today, in the spirit of the "Day of Thanks", I will say this. I am thankful for the opportunity to forgive, for the chance to be forgiven, for the privilege of having family and friends - whether they like me or not- with which to share my life. There are people waking up today- everyday- literally alone. Not a true friend or blood relative in sight, near or far, who will be there to break bread, drink wine or water or Mountain Dew with them. Unless it is by choice, I cannot imagine a more painful existence- one in which I am by myself in a world of relationships. So this is for you- those I love, for those I don't, for those I like, and for those who piss me off. Without you and our relationship- for better or for worse- I would be not be who I am today, where I am today, and what I feel today. Thank you.

She's Alive!

"We can only be said to be alive in those moments when our hearts are conscious of our treasures." ~Thornton Wilder

Day Twenty-One: It has become more and more difficult each day to come up with one thing for which to be thankful; the problem lies not in that there too few things worth being grateful to have in my life, but rather that the more I think about it, the more I realize the list of gifts in my life for which I am thankful are damn near endless. I have sat here most nights and spent more time thinking about what one idea/item I will write about than I have actually writing; most nights I have jotted some ideas on a second list about what to write about being thankful for on subsequent days. These items range from the simple (my warm, fuzzy Crocs) to the profound (the tug at my heart when a student thanks me) to the comical (my awesome hair which, combed or not, looks exactly the same and so can be left alone!) to the somber (the time I had with my grandfather before he died wherein we were able to make amends and learn to love each other again). Now that I think of it, that's what I am thankful for today- not for any one of those thoughts listed, but for having the privilege to have so much in my life to be thankful for each day, so much that it's nearly impossible to choose just one gift to make noteworthy to the world.

Three is a Magic Number

I am a little delayed in writing these...Friday night and last night both found me thankful for sleep, so that's what I did instead of write. I know you are devastated at the loss of two days' worth of wonderful words, so I shall indulge you tonight with a lengthy description of each days' thanks for the last three. Riiiight. I am so tired you'll be lucky to get a line or two for each (again, I know you're just beside yourself right now). Working backwards:

Day Twenty: Tonight I am so thankful for my children's love of books, both constant and newly found. Eibhlin has loved reading since before she was born and tonight she shared her zeal with her two younger brothers, reading to them two of the books from her assigned book list. I could her from down the hall, using the voices and emphasizing the words. I could also hear the giggles and laughter from Uilleam and Connlaodh as they just soaked up her excitement. Taidhgin, on the other hand, has finally found two series of books that he thoroughly enjoys. While the English teacher in me blanches at the thought of them (graphic novels- hell, COMIC BOOKS- for crying out loud!), the mother in me wells up at the sight of her oldest finally being engrossed in a story and enjoying himself so much that he doesn't ask if he his time is up yet!

Day Nineteen: I haven't been big on telephone chit chat since some time in the early 90's, but nothing beats a conversation- be it by phone, chat, or text- with someone whose story you've known for almost three decades. Whether the news is good or bad, the conversation short or long, none of it matters. There's a feeling of coming home when you can fill in the blanks, understand the pause, know what that other person really means when they say, "Ummm..." There are so few folks with whom I share that time, that relationship, and so thankful I am for the few people in my life crazy enough to keep sharing their lives with me.

Day Eighteen: There is a little girl in the Ditto Dashers track club who is about three feet tall and just the cutest thing. She runs her laps as best she can, but since her legs are so little she only does about half as many laps as the other kids. Every Friday I leave my job ready to rid the world of children...then I see this little girl, and the other 75+ kids in the club, and I see their futures and their smiles and remind myself that they all start off small, hopeful, and giggling. The thought of this little girl and her infectious grin makes me smile even now. Thank you, my awesome little first graders!

"Fred, she's gotten her boobies." - Grandma Helen, Sixteen Candles

Day Seventeen: I am so freaking glad that I am not in high school anymore. Thank you, old age, for creeping out from my eyelids, up through my hair, and down across my backside. I used to think I never wanted to be 30- that anything over 30 was just a ridiculous waste of time- but how I was wrong, oh, how I was wrong. I may miss the ability to drop a dress size in a week simply by cutting back on what I eat, but I never want to relive the feeling that my life is both so now and so far ahead all at the same time. There's something very comforting in knowing that what you are is where you are and that you're there (mainly) by your own choice or choices. So, my dear crow's feet and cottage cheese, thank you for reminding me that a life lived well and the experiences you have living that life far outweigh the loss of the ability to go bra-less without inflicting pain on others.

"Never eat more than you can lift." ~Miss Piggy

Day Sixteen: There is a moment in your day, week, life, etc. where the world is calm, quiet, and at peace. For some, that moment may be found in the last few minutes before your eyes shut for the rest of the night, for other it may be in that split second before you turn off your car after arriving home from a long day. For me, that moment is found at about 5:30 in the morning, Monday through Friday. The sensation of leaving the gym (or ending a good beach run while on vacation), warm and with my heart amped and my adrenaline pumping, and walking into the silence and emptiness of the pre-dawn is a feeling that I crave whenever my world is spinning uncontrollably. It is a moment of contentment, pride, serenity, bliss. It is a moment in which I know I am unstoppable. It feels as if the whole world has stopped in order to let you be. Don't get me wrong...by the time I get to my car and have started planning my day I have become well aware that I am altogether fallible, human, and overwhelmed. But in that one moment, life is so clear that even the most daunting frustrations appear tiny and insignificant. I am so thankful to have moments like that to hold onto, especially when the rest of my day ends up in the john before sun-up.

Only 39 More Shopping Days!

Day Fifteen: I am damn near done with my Christmas shopping. Yeah, you heard right. Ok, so I still have all of the teachers still to buy for, but the kids- my own and my niece and nephew- are done. Let's be real, folks, they are the ones I sweat every year anyway! I know there are folks out there who eyeball the paper, the ads, the TV looking for the sweet deal. They are the same ones who balk at my 4:30 am gym time ("My word! That's too early to get up for ANYTHING! However do you manage?!") but who will be ON LINE in front of (insert store name here) at 2 am on Black Friday, ready to save $10. Courtesy of mailing lists, promo codes, retailmenot.com, and timing, I have already saved more than ever and have gotten some real winners this year. So thank you to my favorite stores for making this year's e-shopping extravaganza nearly painless and absolutely successful!

Short and Sweet

Day Fourteen: The kids went to bed without an argument, the baby's fever broke, enough of my papers are graded, and it's not even 9:30. Need I say more? Thank you, cabernet and Tempur-pedic, for helping me wrap up this wonderful day.

Girl Power

Day Twelve: I would like to send a love-filled thank you to my amazing daughter, Eibhlin, for showing me what it means to be a whole woman. She played a 9 am baseball game where she fielded better than ever,

she spent the afternoon playing mom to baby brother and slave to her mother, and she spent the evening accessorizing and living it up with her gal pal, Hannah.

From red clay to putting clothes away to spending the evening at play, the girl knows how to work it. Smart, beautiful, proud, confident, athletic, disgusting and a pig, loud, and involved; Eibhlin is more complete at 6 than I am at 30 + that. I look at her and thank her for being her and nobody else. She drives me the craziest of them all- I love it, am grateful for it, and wouldn't change it for the world.

And for those who are thinking it already, I know. I am in for one hell of a teenage girl's life. I am shining up the locks for the doors and windows. :-)

Day Thirteen: Tasha at Walmart on South Cooper is the best checker I have ever had the opportunity to work with. Thank you, Tasha, for making the what could have been an endless coupon parade hosted by the crazy woman in front of me move faster than it would have had someone else been ringing her up AND also for thanking me for my patience! I know it sounds silly, but it's a hell of a lot easier to be nice to the person behind the register when they acknowledge the pain of those in front of the register. As for the lady in front of me: 1) you didn't save all that much, so really, what the hell was the point? and 2) you should have heard what the couple behind me was saying about you!!! Was almost worth sitting through your paper b.s. just to hear it said aloud!

"(They're) out (there) on the front lines, sleep in peace tonight"

Day Eleven: The obvious thanks today is for those who have served in our armed forces and have taken it upon themselves to, without thought of the consequences, protect the rest of us and allow the rest of us the peace of mind to continue our day to day lives. I don't think one has to be a overly patriotic to be awed by the courage it takes to be willing to die, be injured, etc. in the line of duty. In fact, I think anyone not in awe of someone willing to travel thousands of miles to possibly die for the rest of us back home is someone who needs a very serious wake up call. Many of us go to work every day and our biggest concern is whether or not 5 o'clock can come quickly enough to suit our needs; how different our society would be if we all went to work every day not knowing if we would even live to see 5 o'clock. Regardless of how one feels about the wars and battles America has fought and about the reasons for each, we must all recognize the fact that these men and women do what they do with or without our support- and so therefore deserve it all the more. So thank you, veterans and those on active duty, for being who you are, what you were, and what so many others only dream they could be.

(Lyrics courtesy of Toby Keith/Chuck Cannon, "American Soldier")

Excuse the Mess, but We Live Here

Day Ten: You said, it Roseanne Barr! I am thankful for the mess in my home, for it reminds me of all the things in my world that are far more important than clean floors and an empty sink.

I don't remember anything about the cleanliness of my parents' house other than Saturday mornings were cleaning days and mom hated when we dusted around (as opposed to under) the tchotchke that overwhelmed her shelves. Was their house dirty? No. Then again, would I remember if it was? Absolutely not. I try to remind myself of this when I scan the disarray ever-present in my home and wonder how much therapy it will cause my children to need later on.

I kept a tight ship once upon a time. It was easy, with only two of us, to keep our house clean, neat, organized, etc. After we had Taidhgin, the house remained spotless, more or less. After Eibhlin came along, the house was clean. After Connlaodh was born, we moved into tolerable. Now, with the addition of Uilleam, I am lucky if I can see the kitchen island, let alone wipe it down. I used to do it all, but now I contract out my work: the four year old vacuums the living room, the eight year old wipes down sinks, and the six year old cleans all of the glass. They work very hard, they aim to please, but without fail there are streaks, crumbs, and more left behind. We do what we can, when we can, and that's all we can. What does this mean? It means that my floors and counters, as with the rest of my life, are a practice in organized chaos. Four kids, three dogs, one cat, and a husband all amount to endless sweeping, wiping, vacuuming, etc....if that's how I would choose to spend my time. Instead, I have given up the impossible dream and resigned myself to a house that is by no means clean- especially by the standards of some folks in my world- but is more of a home than I ever imagined I would be fortunate enough to have.

Don't get me wrong- I am in awe of anyone who has four kids, three dogs, one cat, a husband, a full time job, AND a spotless house....obviously she is amazing at time management and I wonder how much she would charge to come take care of my home. Until I meet Wonder Woman, however, I will be content to be grateful for the fact that I have learned to function in the clutter and that I know that one day I will miss the insanity that causes it. If keeping spotless floors and counters means I can't cuddle on the couch or hit the playground with the kids, then so be the dirty floors and counters- they'll still be there for me to clean long after the kids are gone.So, dear tile, we can rekindle our love affair then. And, let's be honest, Dr. Seuss nailed it when he said, "And this mess is so big ... And so deep and so tall, We cannot pick it up. There is no way at all!” (Dr. Seuss, The Cat in the Hat).

Many eThanks

Day Nine: I love the fact that modern technology allows me to take the pause necessary to collect myself after reading a b.s. email, text, etc. In the old days I would have to just lose it on the phone or in person and deal with the consequences. Thanks to electronic communication, I can bite my electronic tongue and proceed down the path toward a more gentle discourse without fear of reprisal. Now if only I could master the act of pause, breathe, relax in real life. Baby steps, baby steps.

A Tribute to Emerson and to My Gal Pals

Day Eight: Ralph Waldo Emerson said, " I awoke this morning with devout thanksgiving for my friends, the old and new." Today this sentiment meant that much more to me, as today was the day of our November Girls' Night Out. Once a month, every month for the last three years, I have had the honor of meeting up with some of my brilliant, funny, beautiful girl friends for drinks, food, laughter, and tears. The restaurant changes every month, but the faces, for the most part, are constant. Emerson also said, "The ornament of a house is the friends who frequent it." My monthly "home", then - be it BJ's, Gloria's, Babe's, or any one of the dozens of restaurants in the Metroplex -is among the most finely decorated homes in the world. I am indebted to these women for what they have given me over the years- love, belly laughs, support, rounds of drinks, food samples, encouragement, and the opportunity to wear my own hat for a while, play my own role, be something other than a placeholder for someone else. For these few short hours every month (though it used to be long hours back we when first started and closed the bars down!), I am truly thankful.

So I'm Late....and You Know What THAT Means

How many of you are right now saying, "You are kidding me? She's knocked up AGAIN!?" (Yes, I see all hands are now in the air). Okay, so no, I am not pregnant. But I am late- in action, in will, in thought, etc.

I have been reading my friends' blog and Facebook posts for the last week and have seen a pattern among them: many of their posts start with "Day Number" and are followed by a note about something for which they are thankful. Some of the items for which they are thankful are deep, profound, touching...others are small, trivial, and important in their simplicity. What has struck me most, though, is how each day these friends sound more, well, thankful. Happy. Content. Secure. Gracious. HERE.

I will be the first to admit that I don't spend a lot of time acknowledging the gifts in my life as much as I should; how many of us really do have that kind of time to spare? Hmm. Given the fact that most people walk around ready to lash out, be a victim, take advantage, be hurt, give hurt, cry, scream, sigh, etc. I guess the real question is how many of us should be making that kind of time. So I looked into what could be the catalyst for this thanks-giving being done by my friends and I came across 30 Days of Thanks. This is where I realized I was coming into the game a little late...apparently this project began on 1 Nov. Well, better late than never (especially in the case of my period, for those of you interested in knowing where I stand on that subject these days!).

I don't think giving thanks is merely a religious thing (or only a Pilgrim thing, either). I think it's a human thing. So, in an effort to allow myself the opportunity to be human for a moment, I decided to go ahead and back up, run through some quickies (no pun intended), and get myself caught up. I am sure points will be deducted for this being turned in late; hopefully I complete my assignment well enough to at least pass.

Day One: I am thankful for having finally gotten a phone plan (and phone!) that allows me access to Pandora (yet again, better late than never). For an hour every morning while at the gym, I can relive the music of my youth- yes, my angry youth- and work out harder, smile a little at some memories (cringe at quite a few more), and simultaneously be 16 again AND be okay with my 36 year old gray hair and wrinkles. Thank you, Pandora, for being on my phone.

Day Two: I owe a world of thanks to Children's University for making Connlaodh feel smart, big, wonderful, proud, and HAPPY to be going to school. Connlaodh spent last year fighting us tooth and nail, every morning. He cried, he threw things (including himself), he BEGGED to stay home. This year, thanks to Children's University and Ms. Jackson (his teacher), he is a totally different child. He is excited to learn, to share what he's learned, and to be a part of a school. Just writing this brings tears to my eyes because I can, right this moment, hear him say proudly, "Mom, open up my folder. Look what I did today!"

Day Three: Being thankful for one's family is a given- and I will get back to them later- but for today I have to remark on a family other than the one with whom I share genes...

I have the best not-related-by-blood families in the world. Whether it's at the dojo, school, work, or play, I am so fortunate that we have fallen in with some of the best people. Everywhere we go in our lives, there are people with whom I would trust my children, my heart, my world. These are people who, for no reason other than because they rock, come to bat for me, us, etc. These are people who, without having to be asked, fill the gaps where they see them. These are people who know when to step aside, know when to step up, and know when I need some help to stand. They ask for nothing in return other than the same...and that I gladly give. I think of all the folks in our world who helped us in the last year especially, even if their help was simply the phone call that kept me from losing it, and I am so thankful, so thankful.

Day Four: Mrs. Jennifer Nations and the Ditto Dashers track club are day four's recipients of great thanks. Mrs. Nations reinstated the track club and, with the help of some Ditto moms who are lucky to be able to volunteer their time the way they do, also reinstated the Ditto Dash. Taidhgin and Eibhlin took to the club- and running!- and we started something as a family that has been fun and terribly rewarding. Thanks to Mrs. Nations and the track club, we ran a number of fun runs last year as a family of five- and then six!- and are planning on doing the same this year. I also have the good fortune to be able to volunteer with the track club this year and that is unbelievably uplifting! Who would have thought that by spending my time with 100 elementary school students I would come home feeling something other than a need for a stiff drink? Ha! But I do- I come home happy, both with my kids and with myself. I see more family runs, post-run trips to IHOP, and laps on the Ditto track in our future...and for that, I am truly grateful.

Day Five: I am thankful that Pre-K/K football is over. I know that sounds terrible, but holy crap is 8 am on Saturday morning a beating! Don't get me wrong, I am so glad that Connlaodh found a sport that he actually wants to do again, "Mom, I cannot wait for next year when I get to play REAL football.....TACKLE football!", but getting all six of us out of the house by 7:30 has been damn near impossible. So, thank you, Arlington Optimist, for providing Connlaodh with a niche...and for letting me sleep in next Saturday.

Day Six: My neighborhood is pretty freaking awesome. There are very few places left where a mother can send her four year old, six year old, and eight year old out to play for hours on end and know that they will not only come back safe and sound, but that someone will call the minute they go astray. When we bought our house eight years ago, we bought it for the size, the location, and the loft. Little did we know that, eight short years later, we would be in a position where those aspects of our home could be easily replaced elsewhere, but the neighborhood- the people, the kids, the safety, etc.- could not. I am so fortunate to be able to say, "Go out and play and don't come home until I call you!" without fearing for my children's well-being. My only fear is for our neighbors' sanity; one day with all of my kids is enough to drive anyone insane!

Day Seven: Thank you to my son, Taidhgin, for reminding me that there is still a shred of decency and compassion in the inherited hearts of the world. Taidhgin knows there is no Santa Claus (sorry, I didn't ruin that for anyone, did I?) and has done an amazing job of keeping the secret and sharing in the fun of watching the other kids believe. So tonight, when he handed me a letter he had written after Art Class, I was blown away how, in the midst of what was apparently a complicated and difficult Christmas list to write, he took the time to remember his siblings and remind ME to remember them, too:

Controlling for the obvious spelling issues, let's look at what is so amazing here that is brought me to tears: 1) he knows how to properly use the post-post-script abbreviation and 2) he says, "Don't show the kids!". I don't know what tugs at me more- the mere fact that he remembered them and asked me not to show them his letter or the fact that he refers to them as "the kids"; how old does that young soul feel some times? I love this boy for so many reasons; for today, I love him most for reminding me that while we often spend so much time thinking about what WE want, we need to spend just as much time remembering what others NEED.