Thankful for Moments of Gitty

''Tis the season I suppose, for giving thanks, for being "thankful." Gratitude, as my family likes to call it. "It's time for Gratitude" I hear announced once the dishes are cleared. We then gather around the dining room table after a full meal of turkey and all the fixings. We each take a turn verbalizing our thoughts of great thanks and appreciation for everything we have in that moment. And always a special thanks for those at that very table we sit and for those that have gone on to a higher place. It's this special ritual that my family does every year that we all either look so forward to or completely dread. I realize that not all families do such things, as it might be uncomfortable or awkward to spill that much emotion all over people who may just have big brick walls around them every day, never-mind Thanksgiving Day.

So it is in this tradition that I usually take the role as one of the "cryers" at the table. I guess it wouldn't be Thanksgivinging without me crying at least once. Crying for happiness or for sadness or out of pure frustration with life. This year I spoke of my gratitude for doors opening unexpectedly when others were slammed in my face. I thanked everyone for being my guardians, my sounding boards and my support line. It has definitely been a weird rough road for me lately and I just felt so much and suddenly needed to let it all just flow out of me whichever way it chose to. With the powerful explosion of thoughts....and tears, I did not want to take up more time and ended up not acknowledging my gratitude for the most significant part of my life.

With the dramatic comings and goings of many minutes throughout the day, it's sometimes hard to keep track of what needs to be done or said. My brain rapidly processes thoughts while I am in the shower or driving to work and I think how important and precious those thoughts are. This is, until I get out of the shower or step into my office at work and those "precious thoughts" seem to evaporate into thin air. So, document, document, document - I keep saying to myself. Keep track of it all, so I can remember to be thankful! Remembering the good, happy times that make me gitty!....that is what gets me through all of the other "stuff."

I am so thankful for the moments in the wee hours of the morning when the birds start to chirp or the highway humms from far down the hills below us and each of my boys are asleep in their cozy little beds. I am thankful for these moments because these children are quiet, they are innocent and cute. It's a brand new day, a fresh, clean slate and new aspirations are set. At this hour, these little bodies are warm and comfy in their PJ's. They are still cuddling with their favorite toy with their blankets pulled high up to their chins. As I gently wake them up, little smirks appear on their faces and sometimes a hand reaches out for me or full blown arms for a big bear hug; all still with eyes shut tight and squeaky little noises being made with their throats.

I am thankful for the precious words that melt my heart on a daily basis. "I just love you so much, Mommy." "Mommy, can you please play with me?" "When I grow up, I want to be as soft and cozy as you and Daddy." "Will you stay with me forever, Mommy and never leave?... except on boys night?"

I am thankful for good moods and excitement. When getting the mail seems to be as exciting as an amusement park, when a plan to have movie night makes them shout right out loud "YAY! Movie Night!!!" or when they are so excited to show me a toy they built out of Legos that they will literally jump up and down as I look at the intricate detail. These moments of pure elation, I am so grateful for.

I am thankful for smiles. Simple smiles from my boys direct to me; from across the room, at the dinner table, when I pick them up after school and they run to me with so many teeth showing I can count the lot of them....

I am thankful that they want to share with me; their meal, their crayons, their toys or stories of the day's happiest moments.

In the dark quiet of this bedtime moment, I sit finishing up this necessary account of thankfulness and I hear the sweet serenade of soft yawns and little snores. (with an occasional cough) But as I sit here, I am not thinking about the traumatic morning routine and drop off we had this morning or the horrendous bedtime routine tonight. It was a rough day with not a lot of smiles from one of my boys, not too much sharing or excitement. But I think more in this moment about how blessed I am to have two such genuinely well behaved children who get excited and gitty about the little events in life; bath-time, underwear on their head and our Elf on a Shelf. Being gitty is definitely contagious and though I may not get the same rush of fever over getting the mail each day, I am gitty about being loved by such a wonderful family....even when it is "just boys night."

Connections

It would be amazing to me if someone had gone through life without making any real soulful connections. I would have to ask myself; Were they not paying enough attention? Were they not ever in need of such a link to another individual? I would need to investigate further. I have heard people say "...I have enough friends." Enough? Really? What if you think you have satisfied all of the hunger inside of your heart and you end up missing out on something really profound? That is what life is about; you take a left instead of a right and boom! you meet someone you wouldn't have met by going the other way.
(a few of my favorite movies - just the trailers - about how connections, unexpected situations and people you meet by chance are so cool! Prelude to a Kiss, Serendipity, Forces of Nature, Sleepless in Seattle)

My husband and I went away to New York City this past weekend. It was a well-deserved and much-needed couple of days just for us. On the train coming home, we sat next to an older woman that I felt a strange sort of kinship with. Her appearance and mannerisms were extremely familiar to me and for a brief minute I thought I could be related to her. I listened as she told her story about a bad train experience she had in Italy. I felt warm with a sense of home in my heart as she spoke. Maybe subconsciously I needed that feeling right then. Or maybe it was her that actually needed something from us as she was traveling alone. I really believe these brief but poignant experiences are so important in life and should not be ignored.

I feel so blessed to have the connections I have gained in my life. One of the most important is my sweet husband. We both had the opportunity to move out of state right before we met. Without real reasons as to why, we both chose to stick around long enough for that first simple handshake. We became friends and ended up connecting in a way that made us feel like we had known each other all our lives. Maybe at some level we had. I am certainly glad other forces were on our side and brought us together. We have made such a beautiful life together.

My boys are a connection that I was never certain I would ever have. I mean, of course I dreamed about the wedding, the husband, the white picket fence....but the kids....they were always headless, personality-less. I could not even connect with the thought, never-mind dream about the actual little beings that would one day be the ultimate loves of my life. The connection I feel to them is the deepest, most soulful feeling in the world. When we picked them up at my Mother's tonight, I put out my arms and they ran to me. I felt such a sense of completeness that I wish I could explain in words. As a mother, my biggest fear in life is that time will zoom by and I will forget these moments of connection with my boys. They are able to sense when I am sad, when I am happy and when I am mad. They cuddle with me, sing to me and make me laugh all the time. I know when they are disappointed, frustrated or hurt and the best part is that I can usually help them through it. What will I do when this feeling of kinship is not so strong or reliable?

"Charlie's" birthday is coming up soon. In the quiet moments of just him and I driving home from my Mom's tonight, he told me he would like to have a Christmas-How-to-Train-Your-Dragon birthday party this year. He told me that cupcakes would be the best part of his birthday and would like to go to the store with me to pick out some Christmas decorations. He was planning it all out and with each thought, he got more and more excited. We were connected in this simple little moment in time and I will always cherish it.

I was tucking "Kyle" into bed tonight after we read a couple of books all together. He was so lethargic and yawned just about twenty times in a row. I wrapped him up in his blankets and we chanted together as we always do; "snug as a bug in a rug." I whispered in his ear "I am glad you had so much fun with Nana and Pepa this weekend." He closed his eyes and I thought he was just about drifting off to sleep, but then whispered back to me. "I did have fun. I missed you so much though." He said it with a little smile and a few seconds later he was snoring. Come on! No wonder I could not imagine real kids in my future. With moments like these, I do not think I could even dream of a more perfect moment or connection with my children.

I am reading a book right now by Katrina Kenison 'The Gift of an Ordinary Day'. I have never met this woman, but I feel the strongest connection to her. She is truly the 'future me.' I should have said I am trying to read her book right now. I cannot get through the pages without drenching them with my tears. (it was a bit embarrassing on the train today). I connect with her on many levels, but two of the most important are as a writer and a Mother who cherishes every single moment with her two boys. Her guys are older now and she is dealing with the realizations of how fast time has gone by for her. She treasures moments with her boys then and now. A part of me thinks I may not be able to continue to read this book right now as it brings some of my greatest fears to life. I will keep writing and documenting, but time still ticks by. I don't want to forget. I don't want to miss. I pray every day that I am given the strength to live in each moment and cherish every simple conversation without regret.

As I progress on my own writing journey as a new Hartford Parenting Examiner, a Freelance Writer for a local media corporation, blogging, writing my own book and starting up a website, I hope you all will continue to follow me and support me. I value our connection.

The Heart of the Matter

As I sit alone in this quiet little spec of time with my thoughts; I am at peace with myself. I wonder how I even got to this place. Many outside sources and inside voices contributed to choices I have made. And I think I realize now that when I actually pay attention to signs and signals, I can find the core of a problem, the answer to a question, the solution to a dilemma. The core of any situation is really what is most important. An apple has a core. The earth has a core. We, as humans have a core. As the earth spins on it's axis, as the tides ebb and flow, we strive for balance. It's our core being, our soul that keeps us balanced. But sometimes, we lose track of what our core is telling us and we can spin out of control.

My youngest son was having a hard time going to bed at night. Each night, it would be a major battle to get him into bed and then to get him to stay there. We would start off gentle and kind and end up frustrated, tired and yelling. One night, he whispered in my ear "I don't like my room, Mommy." I was not really sure at the time as to whether it was truth or fiction as a tactic to stall and get me to stay with him or invite him into our room. The mission began the next day when I decided that for his birthday, we would give him a new room. He is now excited about taking EVERYTHING out of his bedroom and painting the walls "blue and green." We are picking out curtains together and he even picked out a Patriots throw rug. He has been sleeping in our spare room for now. To my surprise, he is perfectly content in this storage-like room with boxes, an old TV that does not work and a queen sized bed next to his small toddler bed that he sleeps in. He does not wish to switch rooms and realizes this is just a transition room. This process was so rejuvenating and a good lesson for me. If you are unhappy, find out why and do something about it.

My oldest son gets frustrated very easily. He gets mad at himself, mad at his brother and definitely mad at me. He is Irish and Italian, so we certainly did not help him out in the temper department. However, it seemed like there was something else going on. As the persistent and curious person I am, I was determined to look into this matter further. I would watch him and analyze these mini-tantrums. What I was not watching was myself and my own reaction to his frustration. I realized after quite a few episodes that I was probably reacting worse to his initial reaction. His frustration was frustrating to me. I felt myself jumping out of my skin sometimes and saying "Come over here and I will fix it FOR you!" or I would state his name sternly if he dropped food or a drink on the floor. His reaction always worsened after my involvement. I sat down next to him the other night after an incident and calmly asked him what frustrated him most about the situation. He looked at me with a plump lower lip, furrowed brow and a tear slowly sliding down his face and said "when you said my name." I realized that I was becoming part of this problem and frustration sure is catchy! So after I got out the dust pan and swept up all the pieces of my broken heart, I decided I did not want be part of his sadness and frustration anymore. We decided we are going to work together on improving our reactions to life's frustrating events.

Getting to heart of the matter of what really makes us happy or sad is so important. Staying true to our core beliefs can be difficult sometimes, but when we do, it is rewarding. Getting to the core of any problem can be hard work but it has a pay off. And as my son said just the other day, "Biting into the core of an apple is yucky, just so you know."