(Almond) joy

Tonight I sit warm and cozy on my "spot" - the indented cushion on the left side of my couch. I chomp on a Almond Joy bar from Big A's Halloween basket (yes, we still have candy left! But as you can tell, we're getting down to the z list). Upstairs the 3 people I love the most lay sleeping peacefully -- Little A, Big A and Big J, who who has recently taken up a new workout routine and thus conked out while putting Big A to bed.

I think about all of the things I have to be grateful for this Thanksgiving -- the continued health of my family, the unexpected pleasure of staying home with my kids, the fact that we have everything we need and lots of things we want. An hour ago, I was beat - a long day with the kids had left me drained. With the help of a little time and a little chocolate, the frustration has eased and I think only of the good parts of today. Big A wearing a homemade Indian headband and singing her heart out in her school's Thanksgiving program. Her pure joy at getting to wear a fancy dress to school (finally, mom). Little A's gleeful run down the church aisle as we waited for the program to start. The indulgent smiles of the other parents and grandparents as her curls bounced and her laugh rang out. Two of the cutest little baby butts you've ever seen "swimming" in the bath together tonight. The girls fighting over who got to snuggle (or as Little A says "nuggle") with me during our nighttime show. I am truly blessed.

I'm finding that even when times are tough, I'm amazingly lucky. The other day I was driving home from a(nother) job interview feeling a little sorry for myself. Then I drove by a homeless shelter and noticed some people dragging out trash and my heart suddenly hurt. How could I be feeling sorry for myself when I have so much? I've never known what its like to be truly hungry. I've never been scared that I wouldn't have a place to go at night. I have a safety net that will always catch me.

This season and this year, I vow to remember how lucky I am. To try not to sweat the small stuff. The stuff that is forgotten between bedtime and the end of Survivor. The stuff that does not really matter in the grand scheme of things. Instead I will cherish the little things. Take joy in the moments that I won't be getting back. Enjoy the peace and quiet and the month old chocolate. Think about the laughter and family that will surround me tomorrow. And remember how very lucky I am.

I wish all (okay, all 10 of you) a wonderful holiday season and year ahead, full of laughter, hugs and (almond) joy.

I'm also grateful for holiday sweatshirts to poke fun at.

And leaves to jump in.