I was going to avoid the cliché Thanksgiving post this year, certain that my own thoughts and words were not up to the standards of some of the more eloquent postings I've been reading this week. Then I remembered my purpose; that these words are ultimately for the benefit of my offspring, and decided that I might after all find something to say to them on Thanksgiving 2013. So for you, Emma, Carys, and Cooper, let me tell you all about our Thanksgiving traditions.
Currently, darlings, you are sleeping upstairs at Grandma Bartscher's house. Well, sleeping is probably optimistic, considering I can hear Cooper bouncing on his bed and Emma just came downstairs to tell me that she just finished Harry Potter #4, and can we please please please watch the movie when we go home tomorrow. I'm pretty sure Carys is out cold, as she resembled the walking dead as she stumbled up the stairs a few minutes ago - a combination of sugar crash and food coma.
I don't know where our future Thanksgivings will take us, so I'm going to relate for you what the last 10 have been like, in the years I've been married to your father. For the last 10 years, nearly every Thanksgiving has been exactly the same.
Your dad hasn't missed a Thanksgiving Day pheasant hunt in...I think maybe...forever...and today was no exception. He left the house at 7am (a little later than usual, he is getting older, you know.) He hunted pheasants until 20 minutes AFTER I told him to come home. (Because it wouldn't be Thanksgiving if we weren't late for lunch.)
This year, Gudahl Thanksgiving was held at Missy's. Your Grandma Gail and Aunt Missy cook up some of the best food ever, and it is always an amazing spread. This year you are all old enough to make your own plates and get comfy in your own spot, and it gave me real joy to listen to you chatter on with your cousins about every last little happening in your life. The girls spent the afternoon in make-up and dress-up clothes, creating dance routines in the basement and putting on performances for the grown-ups. The older boys spent the day together playing video games, and Cooper spent the day alternately reading about dinosaurs and learning new wrestling moves from Uncle Shawn.
Your aunts spent the evening plotting their Black Friday strategies (your mother was a rock star in the online deals department this year and therefore will be sleeping tonight.) In the late afternoon Grandma Gail got the sugar cookies ready and the 4th Annual Christmas Cookie Decorating Extravaganza was off and running.
For the evening we headed over to Grandma Bartscher's to spend time with Uncle John before he went back to the cities, and we've been here ever since, warming up leftovers, watching family movies together, doing crafts at Grandma's table and coming up with endless ways to annoy Grandpa into playing/wrestling/giggling/chasing/tickling.
For the last 10 years we have followed this routine with very little variation. It may not be wildly exciting, but there is great comfort to me in the predictable chaos; it makes me feel solid and part of something bigger than me. I am so glad that we don't have far to drive, we don't have to put on airs or keep up appearances. We love each other for all our faults and failings, we love each other for all our gifts and blessings, and being together year after year makes for the kind of sturdy upbringing I want to send you into the world carrying.
Someday you will be out there on your own, and I'll be the first to say that the world isn't always kind or easy. In the midst of life's chaos it is easy to lose your sense of self; it is my goal to create a childhood that builds a solid core of strength and a strong sense of purpose in your life.
These moments, however trivial they may seem, are the building blocks of that strength, and I hope you draw on that whenever you need it.
When we made the decision to move back home, it was the pull of family that brought us here. We were living the good life out there in the mountains, and we were surrounded by good people and great friends. But in the end, there is nothing quite like family, is there? Your dad and I drive around this town together, and there is a memory lurking on every street corner. We often re-tell the same tired stories, even though after knowing your dad for almost 30 years, there aren't too many we haven't already shared.
I'm hoping that these family traditions give you that same sense of belonging. I hope that someday you're sitting around reminding each other of the little moments that seem so insignificant at the time, but end up being hallmarks of our holidays.
Like the way your Grandpa Bruce is always in charge of carving the ham and turkey and how he's always slipping little pieces to little fingers who come sneaking up for a taste. Or the way Grandma Gail is fluttering about the kitchen making sure that we have at least 200 food items to choose from, and every single one of them is perfectly perfect.
Maybe you'll remember the treasure boxes that Grandma & Grandpa Bartscher have waiting for you, and how we always pile up onto the chairs and couches for the evening movie. Emma is usually with Grandpa in his chair, Carys is stretched out on Grandma's lap, and Cooper is with his mama for whatever movie we happen to be watching. (Tonight, by the way, we watched Despicable Me again.)
10 years, 10 Thanksgivings, all of them more or less exactly the same, and that is the beauty of the holiday for me. The routine of the day has tightly woven our family together, and helped create that sense of belonging.
This is important to me, because I get to be your Mama, and that job is not one I take lightly. I'm not sure I would have the proper perspective, if not for the very real responsibility of giving you the best I have to give. Somehow, knowing that I am creating your life experience makes me want differently, and makes me do differently. I'm grateful for that added purpose, and thankful to our families who strengthen our connections through all those little moments together.
So that, my darlings was Thanksgiving 2013. Here's to many more. XOXO
