Big Cup.

When I was an incredibly emotional teenager, I would lie in my room with my angsty music playing and imagine the perfect life I’d have when I officially grew up. I pictured big cities, low paying yet emotionally gratifying jobs and clinking glasses. Also stylish friends who shared their amazing closets with me because you know, low paying but emotionally gratifying job.  I felt like I would have to find the magic combination that would make my cup feel full.

What I didn’t picture was finding it here. On the cusp of Thanksgiving I’m feeling it. Exhausted, stressed and even scared about some looming things,  but full.

I write about my Jared annually when I should be composing sonnets weekly, not that he would want that. I’m sure he’d be fine with a bi-weekly or even a semiannual arrangement. He’s flexible.  He is so much more than a husband or a best friend. He is a force in this world and all mine.

When we were at store the other night we took Phin down to the toy section. They had one of those mini basketball things where you see how many baskets you can make. Obvoiusly we got into a serious competition. Like, this one’s for the gold, seriousness. Like, this one’s for dish duty for a week, seriousness.  Just a little thing that reminded me that we still got it. It being the ability to have fun anywhere. Even walmart on a weeknight with two kids. Halle-freaking-lujah. I love the life we led before we had children. I love this life we have with them. I can’t wait to see what life we will have when they’re grown.

And those kids? Those kids are better than I could have hoped for. It’s like they were custom made for me. Oh wait, they were. I did that. My parents have one of those little closets under their stair case. My Mom threw a whole bunch of pillows and blankets in there and told her grandkids it was a super hero cave. Sunday night Phin decided that everyone need to get in the super hero cave. Everyone. All his aunties, his uncle and cousins, his parents and grandparents. He gave us each a pat on the butt as we crawled in. When were all piled in, Phin chucked a Pocahontas book at my Mom’s head, I shined my phone at the pictures and we had ourselves a little story time with a side of oxygen deprivation. We were all laughing and trying to avoid getting an elbow or baby foot to the face, but my Phin made that happen. He is his own self.

And my miracle baby. My Gray. My little one that had us holding our breath every few weeks to see if there was still a heartbeat. Who made it into this world over five pounds when we all worried he might not clear two. So much to be thankful for with my sweet baby Gray.

So my cup. That sucker is filled. It’s full of music and books and coworkers who share my love of holiday music and nurture my new found love of professional sports. It’s full of developing new hobbies and returning to old ones. It’s full of nights where I cuddle in bed with my newborn and laptop and Netflix while my husband studies and my toddler sleeps in his big boy room. It’s full of Tuesday afternoons with my Mom, Sundays evenings joking with my day, Monday night football with my brother and Saturday donuts or shopping with my sisters.  It’s full of friends I can go months without seeing but pick up right where we left off. It’s so full and there is room for more. How? Who knows. I just know I am so very grateful for the cup I've been given.

Happy Thanksgiving.