Thank You

Want to sit down and cry. So tired. And yet so thankful at the same time.

Sunshine had a rough weekend. Some nasty little mosquitos dined on her precious and pristine baby flesh and she was left with painful and itchy red welts as a thank you gift. She cried out multiple times each night and mama never got more than an hour or so of sleep at any stretch.

For a few weeks now she has been waking up a couple of times (three or four times on particularly rough nights) to eat. I can only assume she's in the midst of a growth spurt, as I recently had to purchase the next size up in diapers. Sometimes she doesn't even want that much to eat, just wants to snuggle and be held while she drifts back off to sleep.

So each night I get up. On the nights when irritation creeps in I sniff her neck and let her wrap her chubby little hand around my finger and I'm reminded of those who would give anything for this privilege. And I say thank you. Sometimes I just whisper it over and over, until this little baby, this girl, settles back into sleep and I can take us all back to bed. But then sometimes I just hold her. Rocking back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth. Because I can.

I've only learned recently to be thankful for my frustrations. Because many times those frustrations are actually blessings wrapped tightly, hidden from immediate view.

I've started to say thank you for everything. The big and the little. My family. Our jobs. Our house. Our cars. I literally thank God for my car every time I get in it. No joke. I felt utterly ridiculous when we bought it. It's flashy (in my mind). So very not me. But it was everything we had prayed for. Big, safe, the sort of deal we would have been foolish to pass up. So I just say thank you. For a God who loves me. Especially when I don't deserve it.

I thank God for the trials, the missteps and corrections, the unspeakable beauty that makes up my life. For His Son and His sacrifice. My Jesus.

I thank Him for my friendships forged through gut wrenching pain. I thank Him for doors opened and closed. I thank him for too much laundry, too many dishes, a house that I cannot possibly clean in one day. It means that I have much. I have more than enough.

I thank Him that my days are full. That I have a family to get up and take care of for hours before I go to work. I thank Him for the job I have had for nearly 14 years. I thank Him for a boss who claims that if I ever leave, he's going with me. I thank Him that said boss says this in front of clients.

I'm thankful for a mama who still takes care of me, trying each day to make MY life just a little easier. For her flexibility, her kindness, her wisdom and humor. That she loves me. That she's here.

I'm thankful for my daddy. My daddy who always greets me with excitement. My daddy who still works so hard. My daddy who is always smiling, who calls my friends not by name but mija.

I thank Him that I have breakfasts, lunches, and dinners to prepare. For bellies to fill and warm bodies to hug. For little people who make noise. So much noise.

And even if no one else says thank you, I will. Sure, I'll bitch about it just a little bit. But then grace and gratitude quietly walk in and I remember.

Tiny hands reaching for my face. MY face. Eyes gazing wide and wondering. Babbles that mean something very important.

Thank you for the gifts I can never repay.