I didn't do a Thanksgiving post. I was busy. Getting woken up at 5am by BigBrother who DearWife sent back to bed. And at 5:15 by LittleBrother, who was quickly put back to sleep. And at 5:20 by BB again who just got into bed with us. And again at 5:25 by LB, who stayed up this time. I tried to let DW sleep, I took the kids downstairs. I turned on "Sesame Street" hoping the kids would stare mouths agape while I slept.
DW couldn't sleep and came downstairs: "I'm dissapointed in you." Damn, caught. A few minutes later, DW asked "would it be stupid to take the kids out and watch the sun rise?" We threw the kids in the back, in their PJs. Armed with a couple throw blankets and Oatmeal squares, we set off into the darkness, heading toward the rising sun.
The sun wasn't particularly eager to wake up, so we kept driving east. We wound up a Lake Michigan, just as the sun was poking up. We sat down on a bench, and all covered up with blankets. Just us and the crashing waves and the sun. BigBrother noted how the waves sounded like his noise maker. LittleBrother pointed at shells and rocks and bird footprints. It was peaceful.
It was one of those moments. The moments that both DW and I dreamt about for so long while we went through years of trying to have a family. There were times when having those kind of dreams was painful. When we decided on adoption, we knew we had to have things ready. So DearWife painted the nursery. Every time we went to our bedroom, we passed the nursery. The door was shut, but I still stared at the door every time.
As BigBrother sat on my lap and we shared the blanket next to LittleBrother and DearWife, I couldn't help but think how lucky we were to be in the situation we find ourselves in. Parenting is hard. It's non-stop, all day every day forever. And I really couldn't think of anything better.