Since it is almost Thanksgiving, I figured I’d give a shot at a the top 10 things (thank you, David Letterman) that I’m thankful for.  

So, here we go..heh-hem:

1) I’m thankful for the holiday TV specials that enthrall my children for a good 60 minutes so that I can read the paper, return an e-mail, sneak into my chocolate horde, complete a sentence or all of the above!

2) I’m thankful for my friends, who listen to me vent (or at least pretend to)

3) I’m thankful that some of my children are still young enough to think I’m cool

4) I’m thankful for my family’s good health (physical, not mental)

5) I’m thankful that we can afford a turkey and all the fixin’s

6) I’m thankful that Hurricane Ike didn’t destroy our home, just the fence…so that our neighbors’ 18 rabid dogs bark at us every time we go in our backyard, but I digress; I’m thankful that we have homeowners’ insurance, and we’ll get a check to repair the fence, eventually, maybe before my first great-grandchild is born

7) I’m thankful that the price of gas has decreased (Do I hear an ‘Amen, Sistah’??)

8) I’m thankful for wine

9) I’m REALLY thankful for wine

10) I’m thankful for being a mom (honest!)

Happy Thanksgiving!!

Typically, a lioness hunting alone will slowly and silently stalk her prospective victim, remaining unseen until the time is right. Then with a burst of speed, she moves in for the kill. If given the benefit of hunting in a group, a single lioness will expose herself, and then cunningly back the startled animal into the reaches of her sisters, who have secretly surrounded the victim. Together, using strength and intelligence, they conquer.

Yesterday, Saniya and Saadia were playing a never ending game of chase with Aaron. They snaked their way from the living room, into the kitchen, around the table, and back out into the living room, over and over again. They ran for so long that I lost track of who was the hunter and who was the helpless prey. Just when they all began to slow, the girls split off and hid, leaving Aaron confused and unsure. He froze in the living room trying to think of his next move. He watched the wall waiting for someone to slip up and reveal their location. Just as he was about to move closer and investigate, Saadia jumped out!! Startled (and amused) Aaron took off running in the opposite direction. As soon as he turned the corner, he ran into Saniya, who had remained hidden until that point. She jumped up and yelled “GOTCHA!!”

That was the first time they teamed up and out smarted one of us… but something tells me, it will not be the last.

On every surface in our home, from our bedroom to the stroller in the garage, you are likely to find scraps of paper scratched over with my messy handwriting.  “Return library books”.  “Milk, NEED diapers”. “Anna is all out of socks”.  “Frame girls’ school pictures and last year’s Christmas pictures and Silvia’s baby pictures”. “Mascara that doesn’t run, is there such a thing?”.  “Baby books are SO behind, do two pages this month”.

The truth is that even when I take the time to gather up each scattered thought into an official To Do pile, I still never get all of it, or any of it, done.  The only real purpose of all these notes is to get the gnawing tidbit out of my head the moment it grabs hold of me.  Otherwise, I’ll find myself a few moments later standing in front of the fridge, pen in hand, whole body frozen in the struggle to remember whatever that Very Important Thought was that I’d just had.  I don’t know what exact combination of children, Dr. Seuss and laundry has so thoroughly scrambled my short-term recall, but it’s gone, baby.  GONE. 

So, I make lists.  I make lots and lots of dusty, forgotten lists. I even have lists to organize my lists- notebooks divided into sections of home projects, writing, crafts, books, wish lists, etc.  With delusional conviction, I hold on to the belief that if I just write it all down, eventually it will be completed.  Unfortunately, reality exists according to a vastly different set of rules. I can count on less than one hand the times I’ve paused and said, “Hmm… I have a moment right now, guess I’ll check my lists and see what I can catch up on.”

Perhaps the solution is to try and override the list-making urge with another thought altogether, an anti-list mantra.   ”Let go.  There is only this moment.  Let go.”  You know what?  That’s a great idea.  I don’t want to forget… where is that notepad?

Dear Nosy Lady At Target,

Yes, I am a three year old boy with a binky in my mouth. Thanks for taking the time out of your shopping schedule to point out to my mommy how much trouble that is going to cause her later in life. I’m guessing you would be absolutely shocked to find out how many random strangers comment on all the things that they would never do or did never do with their own children. You’d also probably be amazed that you are of no help whatsoever to her or me.  And, here’s one last thing: I’m autistic and while there aren’t a whole lot of perks that come along with that, one is that my mom doesn’t mess with me so much right now on the little issues in my life like taking my pacifier away. Because she knows that while pacifiers haven’t been known to kill anyone, strokes have. And she might have one if I don’t have any way to calm myself when we walk by the toy aisle and I realize she’s not stopping to let me play with Thomas the Train.  See, with my brothers, she can just quietly whisper threats in their ears, but that kind of stuff gets no where with me.   Hey, either it’s a binky for me or a shot of vodka for my mom before we get out of the car. Trust me, this is better for everyone.

Thanks!
Adam

I can tell it is the holiday season when I hear the litany of “I want thaaaaaat!!!!!” coming from the TV room, repeated ad-nauseum approximately every 30 seconds.  (Yes, the TV is my babysitter when I want to make dinner, or, visit the restroom, or make a phone call, jeez, gimme a break!!!).  Usually my childrens’ plaintive want-whines go in one ear and out the other, but this year it’s difficult. 

This year my husband received the popular holiday bonus of being reduced.  Or we could call it ‘laid off’, ‘made redundant’, ‘cost cutting’ or the ever-macho football term of ’getting sacked’.  As you may have heard, unless you have been vacationing on Mars for the last eight months, our economy is in the crapper.  My positive spouse feigns optimism, but with the jobless rate sky high I’m trying to figure out how to live on one income, and hope to goodness my job stays put. My company stock has been bludgeoned to a third of its previous level, there is a hiring freeze in place, there are rumors of us being acquired and my projects are dwindling… 

I’m worried.  I have been through worse before, but back then I was younger, stronger and blissfully ignorant about how tough it could really get. 

I know what my girls pine for on TV will be forgotten as soon as…”hey, let’s go ride our bikes!”.  They don’t know the value of toys, nor do they care.  My older daughter is just now learning how many quarters are in a dollar, and last week she was written up in class for trying to count to a billion (out loud), because she stubbornly thinks she can.  

However, this is my son’s last year at home (my husband says ‘we can only hope’), and I really want to make this a special holiday.  I know the true meaning of the holidays is much deeper than anything I could purchase.  Yet, now that I’m the sole bread-winner (again), I won’t have time to make anything thoughtful.   (My creative ability is in the same general vicinity as our economy, so that is a moot point.)

I will do what I do best: STRESS, and then put in a DVD to quiet those infernal advertisements.