For 35 days – we had extra bodies in our house; some staying short term, some staying longer term. It was busy and often full of chatter and laughing and sound. So I am thankful for quiet – but not necessarily because I was unhappy with a house rife with talking. I enjoyed our guests. I miss their presence and my regular super-human hug-snuggles and laughter which could fill a stadium with joy. But quiet means they can be with those who love them best of all – and together is good, together is right. So I am thankful for quiet, returning to normal days; days which mean we are where we should be.
Notifications that my “order has shipped”:
Stacks and piles of new wool blend felt in all colours bright and cheerful are coming. They are in a truck, in a box, on their way to me. Potential and possibilities all wrapped up in a box winging its way to me right now. I am thankful for fresh materials and reasons to create.
Although I just finished a round of homeschool group classes, another one is just around the corner and I am already dredging Pinterest for ideas. I admit that this is my favourite part of teaching classes – the potential stage. I might, just might, go a little overboard with the ideas and struggle to bring them back down into realistic proportion. But oh the books, and crafts, and projects, and … I am thankful to have an outlet for my obsessions and reasons for new children’s books, and a husband who grins and agrees that new books are a “wonderful idea” and means it.
It is hard to see pain flicking its way across your child’s face – her pale skin turned almost translucent, watching her crawl into bed in a darkened room to bury herself under blankets despite friends, despite food, despite anything. My youngest daughter suffers from migraines which come on with visual and sensory aura and they hit fast – if she misses the pain medication window, the pain is bad. Sometimes it can’t be helped and she suffers but still I am thankful that the medication works eventually and she finds her way back out from under the blankets, comes back out into the light with tired grin and light butterfly hugs, and grows stronger before my eyes until she is soaring again.
(Gosh, I am so very thankful for her too 🙂 )