Thanksgiving

It's so odd how everything changes. And how quickly time passes.
I remember Thanksgiving meaning something entirely different growing up. It was a time to either travel long distances to meet up with relatives we see every year, or get the house all nice and clean-looking for them to arrive. We'd eat a ton of food, there would be talk of who's been doing what, what grade are you in?, oooo - do you have a boyfriend?, watch a game or two, and then listen to all the men snore. Happy Thanksgiving!
Then around college time, I was thankful to be able to go home to get a load of wonderfully home-cooked food (mostly). By then it was low stress, not many family members anymore. Why? I'm not so sure. Maybe we just thought it was more realxing that way.
And here I am now with TWO kids.... And what does Thanksgiving mean to me? Well, honestly, trying to fix a bunch of food that won't get eaten while fighting the kiddos to actually eat something other than cranberry sauce and stuffing. Tears, screaming (normal dinner routine). Lots of leftovers they won't eat. Bathtime, bedtime. The end.
But when it was all over, I got to thinking about things more deeply. Times are getting harder and I'm sure there are plenty of people who would love to have that kind of fight with their kids. To have so much food you know you're gonna be eating on it for weeks. And suddenly I was filled with so much love. Love and luck. I have a beautiful (semi-healthy) family, and we don't want for anything. How much more can I ask for?
So Happy Thanksgiving. Remember the kids will cry, there will be tears, but there will always be someone who would trade places with you in a heartbeat.