thankfuls

I just read my friend's weekly column and realized that I didn't do my thankfuls this year. Usually I do some sort of writing project based on appreciation with my kiddos at school. Due to a snow day, that didn't happen this year. Because of a blue mood on Sunday, I didn't exactly get too reflective on all I have to celebrate and cherish. I was funked out by the cold, by my sister so far away, by another day inside. But now it's Monday, Els is back at school, Sol's asleep in his closet and I'm ready to be thankful.

First of all, I am thankful for space. I adore my little home. I bought my half of it with my hard earned teacher's salary. I chose every paint color, every piece of art on the walls, every random chotsky a piece of our history, our travels, our journeys. But a month or so ago our walls seemed to be caving. Night after night Sol struggled, we all struggled, through sleep at the foot of our bed. Each of our movements seemed to wake him. But then, how can we not move?

When Jeff's parents went back to New Jersey, they offered their house for an extended stay. Solomon's in a crib in the walk in closet. Eliana in a beautiful, new big girl bed. Jeff on the sofa with way more sports on TV than he can handle. Me bustling in the kitchen, reading in the hot tub. While I miss my house, my vibe, this opportunity has done us a world of good. Namely, I've joined the world of the sleepers again. I was running on empty for so long. So I am thankful. Thankful for sleep, for space, for the generosity of family.

I'm thankful for my husband. For his passion and drive, the energy and focus that moves through him. His opinions. His adoration and devotion to what he loves. The outdoors. Recreation. The school. His children. His buddies. His wife. Not in that order. We have these moments now. Now that Sol and Eliana are really beginning to interact. These moments of, look what we did! Look how brilliant.

Then there's my Happy. We logged some good play time this past week. She is such a hoot. She's one big orchestrator of creativity. Everything is alive and bursting with personality in Eliana's world. She expresses herself beautifully and keeps our life loud and full and zany. She is growing up and moving from cute to pretty. I can see glimpses now of what she will look like as a school girl, an adolescent. I love that she still doesn't want me to touch her wild hair, that orange is her favorite color, that out of the blue she says things like, Mama you look so pretty when I see you at school! when we're playing on the rug again, me in my yoga clothes for a third day in a row. She makes me want to be my best, most enthusiastic, encouraging, creative, playful self. Mildly exhausting. Thoroughly rewarding.


And then there's big Sol. Biggie Sols. My main, main squeeze. He's started to say Mama. He says it like he's doing an improv exercise in acting class. He can say it with exhaustion, passion, frustration, enthusiasm, adoration, sadness. He can invoke sympathy. A huge smile. He can tug at my heart strings like nothing else. He's also crawling. Just a few real crawls met with insane rolls and belly pushes that can move him from one place to the next in lightening speed. He loves to eat with his hands and is nuts for crackers. He's gonna be into everything real, real soon. He absolutely adores his sister and loves the one armed flappy pat, wave. He could flap and pat and grab her curls all day long. This morning I found them both in his crib in the closet. Eliana had this look on her face like, Surprise, Mama! Look at what I found! Sol looked positively smitten with his sister all up in his personal space like that. He always looks pretty darn smitten when he's looking at his family.



Perhaps the reason I didn't do thankfuls is they take so long! So much to be thankful for. For my sisters. My parents. For my history and roots and family back in the big city. The warm, big city.

For my girlfriends. How I love them. Yesterday when I was telling Joellen how I was homesick, how I felt lonely, I realized that we have had this conversation so many times over the past eight years. We miss our families. We wonder why we live so far away. And ultimately we realize that we have each other and go for a cross country ski. Or hike. Or drink.

Or on a date with Casey the other night. Two hours of talking and talking and talking, of so much to say, so much shared, so much understood. Why is it so hard for us to find time to do this? Some friendships make so much sense. We are seen in each other's eyes. Beautiful.

Melissa on the other end of the phone line. Far off in the wonderland of San Francisco. So close in our experience of working with two little children, of balancing our needs with those of our families and careers.

All my other girlfriends who I don't have enough time to see. Enough time to get to know better. Who don't expect anything but are always there. My colleagues and our shared history and understanding. How happy I am to see them on a Monday. It's a good gig to be a part of.

And the extended gig of this little town. The light shining on Lolo Peak this morning. The blue streaks in the sky and the white glitter on the treetops. My strong body as it slides through the snow on skis, silence all around, smiling strangers on the trail, peace settling in.