I am thankful.
I am sure, as in pretty freakin’ positive, that there will be a plethora of posts regarding being thankful and all that jizz this week (in fact, there have already been some great ones posted – you should read this one and this one… and this one, too). I’m actually gonna go ahead and jump on that bandwagon with today’s post. Although… truth be told, I’m gonna be less than PC. Consider yourself warned.
Right now, I’m on Oahu until 2 December for work (yes for work, damnit – but, also yes, a reason to be thankful). As such, I’ve been able to spend a lot of time with a dear friend who lives here – and her 6 month old son. It has been lovely, really. It has.
Spending this time with her and her son (oh, and her hubby too) has made me all Thanksgiving-y n’ grateful n’ stuff. I’ve realized some of the things I take for granted on the regular. I’d like to reflect on these things with you, dear reader, and express my humble, heartfelt gratitude for the following:
I am thankful that I don’t typically say things like “I just put some oil in your butt!” because if I am indeed putting oil in someone’s butt, they know about it and have given permission for it to be there. And it isn’t followed by “…because I’m your mom and I can!”
I am thankful I don’t have to purchase gas and drive my car simply because someone else doesn’t feel like taking a nap.
I am thankful that, when I sit down to breakfast with friends, conversation doesn’t come to a halt on account of one person’s whining and fusing. Or, if I do spend it listening to whining and fusing, at least it’s articulated, and directed at something.
I am thankful that I don’t look at someone else’s poop multiple times a day. And by look at, I mean inspect carefully.
I’m also thankful my friends don’t send me text messaged pictures of poop.
I am thankful I don’t think a good night’s sleep is from 10:30pm to 3:00am.
I am thankful fun pit-stops for things like free macadamia nut and coffee samples aren’t ruined because we should have kept driving, the baby was asleep.
I am thankful I still have nipples that work (the way I want them to) and that I still want other people to touch my boobs.
Speaking of boobs, I am thankful I don’t think/speak of them as utters. Or simply foodbags hanging off my chest.
I am thankful most of the people I hang out with don’t scream their heads off. And have no ability to explain what is causing the screaming.
I am thankful my day doesn’t literally revolve around someone else’s meal and nap times. Especially someone who doesn’t particularly like meals or naps. Unless I put one of my boobs in their mouth (and, again, not in the good way).
I am thankful I have never once seen a poop explosion so fierce it reached his neck up close and personal. And then had to clean it up.
I am thankful no one in my life needs to be attached to my hip (literally) or they will cry. All the time.
I am thankful I can eat whatever I want – as opposed to having to watch the dairy and spice because it gives some else the shits/isn’t good for them.
I am thankful I never have to trust the most important thing in my life to someone who might do things like crawl into a baby crib (… because baby wouldn’t stop crying so [ex-]nanny thought she’d climb in there with him).
I am thankful I can actually make plans in advance. And then keep them.
I am thankful that, if I were to have a partner right now, we wouldn’t have conversations with this kind of dialogue: “Well, I do scrap the big chucks out first, and then put it in the washer. I try to get as much out of the diaper as possible.” “Meh. You can just throw the whole thing in there!”
Speaking of, well, that, I am thankful I don’t wash my clothes in the same thing poopy diapers go in.
I am thankful the highlight of my day is never the Elite FuzziBunz came in!
Yes. This Thanksgiving, I have a lot to be thankful for.
Now. I understand that, for some, these things are what they are actually thankful for. Ok. Maybe not thankful for these things, but the underlying cause of them. They love being mothers, or can’t wait to be mothers. I love my friends that are mothers and the joy their children bring them. I love seeing my friends (including the one here) happy. I love that their lives, and their children, make them happy.
Therefore – I am also thankful for your happiness and your joy.
So, please don’t take offense to the fact that, despite being happy for you as a mother, I am thankful not to be one. I am not trying to hurt your feelings or downplay the pleasure being a mother brings you, just as I would ask you avoid bringing down my pleasure at being who I am without kids. Us ladies are under enough pressure to settle the F down and have the babies as it is. Hell, some women contend that we can never truly understand what it means to be a woman unless we are mothers (to which I, naturally, call bullfuckingshit).
I’m one voice that is thankful to be a woman who isn’t a mother.
To each our own. There is no set path in life. No one road to happiness. We should all find our own gratitude, our own joy, for the lives that we each build, and the things that are true in our own hearts.
I am thankful for your right to find that path, to give thanks for what brings you joy and comfort. I am thankful for my rights and ability to do so, too. Whatever that road is, wherever it leads, and whatever it brings us along the way.