Into the Dark

When I chose the title for this post (a month ago!), I certainly didn't anticipate slipping on the stairs and hurting my back. However, it was a fitting way to cap off a banner month.

The accident was preceeded by: finding ticks and fleas on our cat, leading to a massive all-hands "Project Clean Sweep"; breaking a full half-gallon glass milk bottle in my car and weeks of cleaning, pulling apart, and more cleaning to remove the gag-inducing smell of rancid dairy; Ian getting a cold and ensuing eye infection requiring antibiotics; and the beginning of daylight savings, our country's evil joke on parents.

And we thought that last one was the icing on the cake...

The funny thing is that someone (other than the "Continue Daylight Savings At All Costs" lobbyists) must be having fun with The Thompsons. Because soon after, we started a NEW month that then ended with Will getting sick on Thanksgiving eve (cutting our visit short) followed by a midnight trip to the ER with Ian.

Whoa. Not cool...

Did I mention that I'm sick too? Of course I am.

But really, if I think hard about it (which is not easy to do right now with a head completely jam-packed with snot)--I have a lot to be thankful for.

Like the fact that I didn't break my back in two places or become paralyzed when I fell on the stairs.

Or that we HAVE two cars that run reliably to shuttle around our little family hither and yon.

Or that our cat (usually) doesn't pee all over the house and doesn't beg me for walks.

Or that we have enough money to buy local, hormone-free milk in glass bottles.

Or that Will isn't wheezing right now even though he has a nasty chest cold.

Or that Ian is alive and well. Maybe a bit too lively right now because he's hopped up on oral steroids, but that is a small price.

Or that Will turned four years old this month and had his first "real" party with friends, and not a tear was shed (by any preschoolers, that is).

I'm trying very hard to get a hang of this "being thankful" on a daily basis thing. I struggle with it. I've always been a glass-half-empty kind of gal. And like my yoga teacher said recently (geez, actually a month ago now), if you don't have darkness, you can't appreciate the light. This was in the context of the colder weather, short days, and very long dark northern nights. But it spoke to me more about darkness in general. My darkness. I've always been afraid of it, 'cause frankly, I've got a lot hanging around.

So, this winter, I'm going over to the dark side. I know this already. But I like the idea of having something to look forward too--a greater appreciation of the light, however much is available.