Today my little family of 6-and-unders celebrated Thanksgiving. The feast wasn’t fancy (it’s hard to make elaborate things with littles underfoot!), the toddler had a meltdown because all he wanted was pecan pie (how dare we feed him TURKEY?!), and the 4yo dropped a nerfgun on the baby in the bouncy seat, giving him a sad little bruise. We tried to talk about the Pilgrims and Indians, but my 6yo really only wanted to talk about Star Wars legos. Neither my husband or I got any naps or board-gaming in (family traditions), since the little ones’ naps didn’t coordinate, but you know what? It’s okay.
Give me 15-20 years. My 6yo will be coming to Thanksgiving with his own wife and baby(ies), my 4yo might be attending with his new fiance, my 2yo will be talking about his college classes, and my baby will offer to pick up a movie rental with his newfound driver’s license. Perhaps I’ll have younger children of my own around the table that I haven’t even met yet.
THEN, I will have more helpers to make fancy pies and more people to volunteer with after-feasting clean-up. We can have an undistracted chat about the historical origins of Thanksgiving and we can talk about what we’re grateful for with appropriate understanding. We can nap. We can boardgame with more participants than ever before.
Of course, with those new life stages come other things. Like my kids having IN-LAWS they may want to have Thanksgiving with instead. Or they may move several states away, like I did to my parents.
So for now, I’ll be grateful. For our simple dinners and lots of interruptive, uncivilized little people to love. Because these are the blessed days. And there are more blessed days to come.
Happy Thanksgiving, friends!