Thankfullnesses

Thanksgiving in London is a bit…anticlimactic.  The kids are at school, Will has Judo, my husband is at work, all the stores are open, and we are heading to a work dinner tonight while William and Penelope stay with a sitter.  We’ll be doing a big dinner this weekend with our friends down the street, but in order to keep the day festive I sparked up a Glade cinnamon/apple candle and decided to put together a list of things I’m thankful for this year:

(1) Pink Undershirts, Pink Underwear, Grey Undershirts, Grey Underwear

I am horrible (HORRIBLE) at laundry (more about that later).  As such, I have now managed to dye several loads of laundry either pink or grey.  Now all of Shane’s undershirts are either slightly pink or dingy grey, as are many of Will’s shirts.  Since everything Poppy wears is pink (her choice) or grey (her school uniform), there’s been little impact for her.  Why is this something I’m thankful for?  BECAUSE IT MEANS WE HAVE A WASHING MACHINE. How lucky are we to be living in the time after washing machines were invented, with enough electricity and running water to make one work, in a flat that is actually equipped with one?  It’s really miraculous.

Did you know that a red sock can even ruin a shirt that is ALREADY pink? True story.

(2) Constantly Losing Shit

After years of claiming that our 800 square foot, one bedroom apartment was “perfectly fine!” for 2 adults, 2 children and one dog, I can safely say now: no. Just, no.  No it is not.  Now that we have more than one room in which to live, I feel like a new person.  And I also have a million new places to squirrel away random things so that there are now multiple options each time my husband asks me where something is.  Every time I lose something, I am thankful that (a) we have stuff to lose; and (b) there is sooooo much space in which to lose it.

I may have, once or twice, even misplaced Penelope. She blends in.

(3) Flashing the French: Belly/Belly Goes International

Although it has caused me to flash my doughy mom stomach to a crowd of complete strangers on more than one occasion, most recently this past weekend in Paris, I am so blessed to have a snuggly little girl who whines “Belly beeeelllly” before lifting up both of our shirts, belly flopping her bare tummy against mine, and closing her eyes with a sigh.  Yes, this will be more creepy than cute pretty soon, but for now I love it (and will maybe start wearing protective undergarments to keep the world from seeing the can of Pillsbury Dough that is my stomach region).

You think this rope will stop her from molesting her mother in public? She laughs at this rope.

(4) The Four Elbow Alarm Clock

At least three times a week, we wake up to two little bony bodies wedging themselves into our warm, dark bed, using elbows, knees, and poky little fingers to get as close as they possibly can to us.  I am thankful that we are the centers of their lives for this incredibly brief period, that we are the first things they want to see in the morning, and that the reason they are both there is because William insists on waking up his “cutie wootie pop tart” because he can’t bear to do things without her.  God, we are so incredibly, incredibly lucky to have this life we have.

Thanks for being so awesome, guys; though since I made you both (with a little help from your dad), I guess the thanks is alllll mine.

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