I am Thankful:
1. August’s room is apartment-size small. (It should not count as a second bedroom because it’s really more of a walk-in closet.) Therefore, there is only one place where his crib can fit. It just so happens that his crib is within reaching distance of the light switch. Lately, he really likes to turn on his light. This has been okay first thing in the morning when he wakes up. But for the past week he’s had a cough. And that child coughs himself awake. Then he turns his light on at 3 in the morning, awaking himself fully and making our attempts at parenting with our eyes closed impossible. I LOVE parenting with my eyes closed.
Therefore, we made a decision today to remove those pesky light bulbs from the ceiling fixture (ha!), tricking the poor child into a happy night’s sleep. But, as I read August’s night time story to him in his crib and Christopher unscrewed the light bulbs, one slipped out of his hand and crashed into a gazillion tiny pieces on the floor. Here’s the kicker: They were those new, twisty CFL bulbs, better (mostly) for the earth but infested with mercury. That’s right, people: Parents of the Year! We broke a light bulb full of mercury on our baby’s floor, in his blocks and puzzles. Not cool.
This leads me to the thankful part. For the next hour my husband researched how to clean up a toxic mercury light bulb (let it sit for 15 minutes, then grab each little piece with duct tape) while August and I read books on the couch. After about twenty minutes past his bedtime, he lay down on the couch. Eventually we turned the living room light out and lay face to face, whispering stories. Mostly I whispered stories about rockets and dinosaurs and Ming Ming the duckling. Then we lay quiet while he touched my eyes and my hair and every once in a while said, “ Mommy, you sleepin’?”
How can the same creature who bit my neck at 4 this morning and won Whiner of the Year today at Trader Joe’s be so beautiful and kind-hearted and tender? I’m thankful.
2. This in six days I will turn 31. It’s not 30 so I don’t have to do anything crazy. But it’s a birthday where I get to look in the mirror and say: “Wow, my jaw is a grown-up jaw. And I deserve those first starts of wrinkles under my eyes. And I’m wonderfully content with my life and my family.” That’s a good birthday.
3. My husband really loves me. I know this because he tells me and because he laughs at my jokes (even though he still won’t admit that I’m as funny as I think I am). I also know that he really likes being around me. I love that when he comes home from work, his faces eases out of its contortions and rests. He’s genuinely pleased to be home and that’s a gift I cannot measure.
It’s Thankful Tuesday. What are you thankful for?