Shameful, I know, how long it's been. But you will all be glad to know the dreaded student directory has been printed and is being distributed Monday (which is when I begin fielding calls about mistakes and I begin drinking heavily), and I rewarded myself with my annual weekend away in Boston with B. Best quote of the trip? "We'll take two white wines and two shots of whatever is in that skull bottle."
So it's Thanksgiving. The children are engrossed in the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade, H is cooking sides to bring to his brother's, and I am contemplating my entry in the Thanksgiving book. These entries used to be no-brainers. There was always a new baby or new something to take the spotlight in that year's entry, but now each year I get to really explore what has happened this specific year when deciding what to write about. This year, it is all based on a balloon.
Yesterday afternoon, I decided to brave the rain and the crowds solo, as H has another Brazil* trip coming up and needed to work late, to take the kids into the city to see the Macy's balloons being inflated. The traffic was madness and parking a nightmare - #1 heard me say "shit!", which now that she knows that is the real s-word, and not "shut up", makes her crack up with mature, 4th grade glee - but once we got there it was incredible. The Macy's staff was giving out free balloons, which makes any event more fun, no? Except when you have pushy parents trying to cut you in line. Um, sorry, my license plate might say Jersey, but my fist will say Da Bronx if you don't back it up. We walked along in the crowd, being given wide berth because of our extra wide jogger stroller, laughing, while "New York, New York" played, and we watched the Energizer Bunny and Snoopy rise up before our eyes. All was right with the world.
Until #1's balloon, which was tied to her wrist, as were all the offspring's balloons, untied from the string at the top end and floated away. There is nothing more heart-breaking than watching your child watch their balloon float away. Seeing her see the balloon stand was closed, I watched #1 want to burst into tears, but she held all but a few back and sighed sadly. #2, on the verge of tears herself, held out her string and chokingly said, "Here , have mine.", and Little Man started sobbing, saying, "(#1) is saaaad!!!!" This, dear readers, is what I am most thankful for this year. I am thankful that my children are all becoming kind, giving people. Yeah, yeah, it might sound like I'm tooting my own horn, but I'm not. I truly feel you can teach kids all you want about kindness and sharing, but it's they that have to do the hard work. You can lead a horse to emotional water, but you can't make it drink. I am thankful that the time I spend talking about doing the right thing and thinking of others is paying off. That the knocks they take now because they are so sensitive are not changing who they are. I am grateful my kids are good kids.
So #1 got over her balloon sadness and the night went on wonderfully. OK, after her brave reaction, I promised her that crazy cracked nail polish she's been wanting. I couldn't let the day end on a down note right? Yes, I am a sucker and, no I don't care. Life's hard enough. I walked around wanting to shout, "Look at my nice kids!!!"
So Happy Thanksgiving to you all. I hope your day is full of love and gratitude and that you are surrounded by your blessings. An no one's balloon floats away.
*I can finally name where it is he's been going now that his company's project is public knowledge. Every time I wrote about his being away I had to tell him, "Calm down, Jack Ryan, no one's gonna know." (points if you got the Patriot Games reference)
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