As this thread is coming to a close, I am reminded of this truth: that thanksgiving is not be contained to a season or a just a day of celebration; it’s to be exercised as a part of everyday life, like eating or breathing or walking or running.  For there are many things in my everyday that are cause for thanksgiving, only I somehow neglect to acknowledge them.  For in them comes an outpouring of joy.  Oh, how often I go looking for joy!  It’s right here…in the now.  Open up my eyes that I may see, my heart that I may know – for in You, are all things new.  Thank you – for love undeserved!

 

There are moments in the day when I look at our little boy and just be overcome with awe!  I love this little boy to bits.  And when he says, in his sweetest way of doing so, “I love you, Mommy!” – I just melt!  Like today…he was waking up from his nap and as soon as he opened his eyes and saw me, his first words were, “I love you Mommy!”  Nothing in the world can even match the value of that in my heart.  It’s priceless.  Just priceless.  And I am thankful for these beautiful moments captured each day.  They’re like a super strong shot of joy espresso to me.  It makes me deliriously happy!

Rainy day today.  Our little guy said while looking out the window, “The rain waters the plants so the plants don’t get too thirsty.”  There was a time when he was so scared of the rain, he’d freak out at the sight or feel of raindrops.  We couldn’t figure out why he was so scared of it but we suspect his fears came out of a recent storm breakout in late Spring when we I overreacted while watching the fierce wind knock around the trees out the backside of our house as the raindrops slowly picked up speed.  The little guy was right beside me, hearing my anxious, high-pitched voice jabbing about how that tree is going to fall onto our deck and possibly cause damages, etc.  He ran in to our bedroom, got under the covers and said, “I scared of the rain.”

Happy to see him overcome that fear of rain now.  We pretty much had to reassure him that the rain is good for us, for the plants, and the grass because it brings much-needed drink for their parched roots to help them grow.  And yes, he now uses that line whenever he sees the rain.  Except, these days, he’s also prone to singing, in his cute way, the line, “raindrops keep falling on your (his version) head.”

Thankful for the rain and the watering it brings.

Christmas decorations are up.  Thankful for another season of celebrating the coming of our baby Jesus.

 

Beautiful day today.  Day 4 of Hubby’a 4-1/2 staycation.  Ahh…I could so easily get used to this.  It’s wonderful having him around.  The house just has a different energy when the whole family  is in one place.  Thankful for rare but much-needed and refreshing staycation with Hubby and our little guy.

There are days when, out of nowhere, I get so gripped by a crippling fear that I will die tomorrow.  And when I lay my head in bed that night, my mind will bring me to images of my son and my husband and what life will be like for them as my son grows up.  It brings me tears.  And I fall asleep.

Then the next day comes, I rustle out of bed and I see the sun beaming, its rays bringing warmth in the house.  And I smile.  And thank the Giver of Life for life itself.

Three years ago, we celebrated Thanksgiving with a bang!…that fizzled.

Two weeks prior to Thanksgiving 2008, I went in for my 32-gestational-week appointment on a Friday morning and there it was discovered that I was having contractions without my feeling it.  Odd, isn’t it?  Most people probably associate excruciating pain with contractions.  If what I was experiencing was a contraction, I thought, this should be a walk in the park then!

I spoke too soon, of course.  32 weeks is still early for delivery and my doctor preferred that I reach at least 35 weeks, even 34 weeks.  So she ordered me to drive straight to the hospital which was just a block away, thankfully, and get that contraction slowed down.  It’s not time yet, little baby boy Ballast, my doctor said.

There were wires hooked up all over me and there was the magic drip drip drip of medicine that was meant to slow down the contraction, which, at this point, was happening every five to ten minutes.  Hubby never left my side, never mind that we didn’t bring our delivery bag that was supposed to have already been packed and stowed away in the trunk for emergency situations such as that one.  Anyways…the nurses would come in to check on me and each time, they’d say, “Do you feel that?”  “Nope!,” came my response.  Even Hubby got on it too…”You just had another one.  Did you feel that?”  “Nope!,” me again.

By Friday evening, the contractions had slowed down significantly to an hour interval.  We were told to plan on staying until Saturday.  After that, it’s up to my doctor whether to release or keep me for who knows how long.  Saturday came and by that afternoon, I was contraction-free!  Yeay!  I was released but with a very stern warning to keep off my feet.  (Funny…the night before the appointment, I was on my knees, scrubbing our new one-month-old oven from the chicken grease we had for dinner that night…those crazy hormones!)

So…since my Mother-in-law was planning on being present for the delivery of our baby boy Ballast, we called her up in the Philippines to let her know that we had an almost delivery that weekend but that baby boy Ballast cooperated and for the time being, is kept happy in his Mommy’s womb.  Concerned that baby boy Ballast might act up again and decide to come before his Lola got there, my MIL changed her arrival to a week ahead of scheduled flight.  She arrived the week of Thanksgiving and we were actually thrilled to have had her with us for Thanksgiving, though sad that my Father-in-law was by himself (he did celebrate Thanksgiving with Hubby’s older brother and his family who lived nearby).  Up until Thanksgiving day, I was very careful not to over exert myself.  I was on the couch a lot, watching every cooking, travel, and craft shows on public television.  And Sunday football!

Thanksgiving came rolling…my MIL and Hubby were in charge of food.  Feeling more energetic and less concerned about popping the baby out since I’ve reached 34 weeks, I decided to take on the Christmas bedecking of our house…you know, make myself useful.  By dinner time, the house was starting to look a lot like Christmas, the smell in the house was insanely delicious, and the food was set for some festive eating.  The menu consisted of rosemary lamb roast, double baked marshmallow stuffed sweet potatoes, and roasted asparagus.  Sounds too gourmet, ya?  Well, to say it was delicious is an understatement.  And I was eating for two so I had every reason to indulge.  Of course, at about that time, I really can’t eat too much anymore…I generally felt bloated all the time.  Nonetheless, I enjoyed every bit of that dinner.  Until…

An hour later, I felt a pain in my back and shrugged it off but thought this may be the day we get to meet baby boy Ballast!  And the pain just got worst every ten minutes.  Excruciating!  Exactly how I thought contractions should feel.  So off we went to the hospital.  They admitted us at the triage and within five minutes of getting all hooked up and settled, I felt sweaty, the pain in my back was at its all time worst, and I couldn’t figure out whether to cry or scream first.  Then I said, “I think I feel my dinner coming back up!”  My poor MIL – only a nurse’s heart like hers would put up with a DIL (is that daughter-in-law in text terms?) who pukes out her Thanksgiving dinner she’s worked hard to prepare.  But hey, I was pregnant; besides, I could actually be delivering soon.  NOT!  False alarm, the nurses said, as they monitored me for another hour and no other contraction occurred.  All that – the pain, the puking, c’mon!  Nope, baby boy Ballast was being tricky.  He had to wait another two weeks after Thanksgiving before finally finally deciding to come out.  (Not that it was up to him, really.  At least, I think not.  Anywho…)

So yeah…it’s been awhile since I had lamb roast.  I know I will still enjoy it because I like its flavor and I miss it.

I hope at this point you already had your Thanksgiving dinner…if not, I apologize, and if (1) you’re pregnant and about to pop, (2) you’re about to eat Thanksgiving dinner, and (3) you’re feeling squeamish doing so, please do give me a call or write me a note and I will promise to make you a dinner to make up for what you might have missed today.

Happy Thanksgiving 2011!

“Be thankful in all circumstances, for this is God’s will for you who belong to Christ Jesus.” – I Thessalonians 5:18 

We watched a group of mallard ducks and their young waddling in the water today.  Our little boy was so thrilled just watching them moving along.  Then, at his initiative, we proceeded to look for the ant hills.  “Maybe they’re still there,” he said.  We ran across the greenish grassy parking lot, all sopping wet from the rains the last two days, and found the first anthill.  He pushed his shoe on it because he had to see the ants.  It took a few seconds before they came out and when they did, he sounded almost relieved, “There they are!  Let’s go find some more!”  So we did and we found at least three more.  Each time he had to push his shoes on the damp hill and each time we had to wait and make sure the ants are coming out.

The wind was getting more wickedly cold so we decided to go back in the car, with a little reluctance from him.  As we were walking, there ascending from the waters into the grayish sky were the ducks, quack-quacking, flying away.  “Oh no!  They’re going, Mommy!  Maybe there are some more ducks left behind.”

We had to look.  But we didn’t see anymore ducks.  Then, as we closed ourselves in the car, I spotted two mallard ducks and a young one beside.  “Look, that looks like a Mommy and Daddy duck with their baby duck,” I said to my little guy.  After straining his little body to look out past the high dashboard, he exclaims excitedly, “I see them, Mommy!”  Concerned, he said, “Aww…maybe we should bring them in the car so the baby duck will be safe.”

Meanwhile, Hubby’s out in the cold, enjoying flying his tricopter around the parking lot.  Concerned for the duck’s safety, our little guy stuck out his head and shouted at the top of his voice, “Daddy, don’t scare the ducks!”  He did this two more times.

This duck family lingered, much to our little boy’s delight, of course.

Everyday, as I care for this little boy, I am awed by his grasp of emotions.  He cares so well.  The other day at a park, all the kids decided to get in on playing hide and seek.  Our little one was on the side watching this all unfold.  Then he noticed another kid, about his size and age, sort of just hanging out at the bottom of the twin slide.  He went to him and said, “Don’t worry, I’ll play with you.”  They ran together to the swing area and of course, within a minute were getting themselves in trouble.

I love my little boy’s heart.  I love watching him reaching out to others.  He reminds me often that it isn’t all about me.  There are many others who need comforting – a hug, a word of encouragement, a prayer, an ear to lend, a meal.  I am very thankful for our son and all the joys be continually brings to our lives.

Laughter.  It’s everywhere at our house these days, more so now than ever before, thanks to our almost-three-year-old.  I love hearing him laugh…I love when he makes me laugh…I love when he and his Dad laugh together.  Laughing over silly little things.  It’s a gift.  And I am thankful.

I’d be remiss not to mention my Mom’s siblings – all eleven of them.  They were like the band of brothers…well, and sisters.  From my vantage point as a child, I saw them as aunts and uncles who knew how to stick together through life’s ebb and flow.  I’m sure there were some grown-up issues they had to paddle through but nothing fazed their resolve to bring attention to a matter important to the health of their relationship with each other and consequently, each other’s family.  Though some of them lived abroad and the others scattered around the country, they never neglected coming together for life occasions as weddings, christenings, etc.  Anyone that could, came, and we took time introducing and getting to know each other to the fast growing brood of Lola Maria and Lolo Mario.  I could never straighten out the names of all my Mom’s siblings; in fact, I have not seen all of them until years later.  These aunts and uncles – they are a class all their own.  I can wax poetic about how wonderful they are but really, there aren’t enough adjectives in the dictionary to describe their amazing care, concern, love, and support for me, my Dad and my Mom through the joyous and most trying times of our lives.  I am proud to call them my family and I am thankful that our becoming family was really not an accident.

Thankful for you all Aunts and Uncles:  Auntie Gloria, Auntie Mary, Auntie Flora, Auntie Frieda, Auntie Phoebe, Auntie Jonah, Auntie Rhoda, Uncle Mario, Uncle Dacwag, Uncle Dicang, and Uncle Octavio.  And thankful that you have exponentially grown our clan to incredible proportions with so many cool, smart, and beautiful cousins.  May our tribe increase even more!