Thankful Tuesday: Yes, There's That

It’s a Tuesday full of thanks, even when thanks are taking a holiday over at Mama Monk's. 

Thanks keep me grounded, bring me out of the under-the-covers-leave-me-alone kind of days that I have been having as I wrestle with what it means to a) be a parent and b) let go. That dance has moved from a waltz or a salsa into some kind of street/break dancing that my body (and psyche) are not properly trained for. So in the midst of this, I am thankful for:
·         A friend’s lack of cancer in sentinel lymph nodes
·         A mother’s day in Montreal, just me and my mom, and a books and breakfast celebration at a downtown hotel
·         A half-carton of chocolate-raspberry gelato from Stella Luna hidden in the freezer by my loving husband who knew that my daughter would probably forget mother’s day and was forbidden (by moi, oh tortured soul and glutton for punishment that I am) to remind her or buy a present for her to give me
·         A daughter who starts each new day new, once past her morning grumpiness, and holds no grudges and cannot imagine that anyone would
·         A sun-filled day, even with frost, that beckons me away from work that can wait--to play in the garden 

Thankful for Thankful Tuesdays

Thankful Tuesdays offer me the chance to praise in the midst of overwhelming disaster, in the middle of minor setbacks, and right in the breathing in-between space of celebration and delight.

Today I am thankful for thankful Tuesdays . . . an easy way back into blogging when I have been away for so long.

I am thankful for friends who interrupt what is becoming an almost typical morning exchange, because just when you think you got most situations covered, there is the curve that Jessie always seems to throw. Right now, in the middle of our no rules season (more on that next blog, I promise), she is finding all the little glitches in my no-rules-breath-deep armor  Like deciding, after getting up and watching more than an hour of some TV show, that she is going to walk up to the corner Tim Hortons (café and bakeshop, for you in the U.S.) and buy a muffin. In her pajamas  When I stop her she throws a fit, accusing me of not understanding her “style” and always trying to control her. I am in the middle of my sixth deep breath when my friend M calls saying she’s coming over to reclaim the dining room chairs we no longer need. I am thankful for the interruption, for the chance to talk to a working mom who has shepherded at least three daughters through this transition. I am thankful for her laughter and praise and commiseration.

I am thankful for HQ, an old friend and confidante of Jessie’s who arose splendidly from the ashes of high school hell and has reappeared in her life. They spent the wonderfully warm afternoon on our back deck planning her candidacy for the Special Needs Party of Ontario. The platform is based on inclusion, funding for the arts, and ending poverty. Now that HQ actually has some hard-won experience in the world and with an advocacy organization, I think he has the chops to make it happen.

I am thankful for tulips and a family that doesn’t mind sitting in the car when I take a detour to drag them magnolia spotting, as long as I don’t make too big a deal of it and don’t make them look.       

I am thankful, thankful, thankful for all the bloggers who keep writing no matter what, and who inspire me to lift myself out of the crash that comes after working 12-hour days, to put fingers back to the keyboard just for the love of it. 

(And I apologize for wonky fonts that I seem to have NO control over. Really, the font is the same size all the way through in the draft. Sorry about that.)