(originally written 11/17/2017)
T is for Thankful
You know when things align perfectly? Like when you’re defining PARENT, and T’s definition happens to land on the Thursday before Thanksgiving? So convenient!
I hate to bust your Thursday night blog session – I know you’ve saddled up with a glass of wine just waiting for me to post what T stands for (hehe), but this probably won’t be nearly as funny (or sassy, or plain rude) as my last posts have been.
We can laugh or brag or grind our teeth about being parents, and we can all agree about the (literal) shit we must deal with, but at the end of the day we put up with everything because we are thankful those little buggars exist. Our babes fill pieces of our heart we didn’t even know were missing until they arrived. Once they’ve entered this world, we find it absolutely impossible for our world to exist without them.
The Thankfulness Parenthood Instills
We become thankful for our FREE personal alarm clocks, who not only promptly wake us up at the ass-crack of dawn, but also keep us awake by hitting our faces, throwing things at us, pulling our hair, etc. etc. etc. until we finally give in to the fact that no snooze button or TV show or toy in the world is going to give us that extra five minutes of shut-eye.
We become thankful for nights in our pajamas and days off work, not because we’re exhausted (okay, well partly because we’re exhausted), but because those free days and nights mean more quality time with our favorite people in the world (also not because most of our friends have deserted us after having children… that’s not a thing at all).
We become thankful for the tiniest accomplishments – sitting up, rolling over, SMILING (what person without a child has ever looked at a baby and been like, “oh my god, she just smiled for the first time ever” with an ear-to-ear grin, totally proud of the tiny new human, as if that little girl just won an Olympic gold medal? Probably no one ever).
We become thankful for:
- The drive to get through the toughest days
- The stretch marks
- The wrinkles around our eyes describing to everyone in an instant that we are getting old as fuck – just kidding –…describing to everyone in an instant that we have something actually worth smiling about, day in and day out, regardless of the shit on the sidelines
- Our own parents, who before we were parents knew absolutely nothing and made terrible decisions with their lives
- Our friends who are also parents (some of the only friends we have left, probs), because now that we’re parents, too, we realize that all the judgment we passed on them was totally unjustified and they’re trying the best they can, just like the rest of us.
A short little story about myself:
(NOTE: It’s seriously way longer than anticipated, so please feel free to bypass this section of the post. There’s a note where you should prob. Start reading again – you know, if you want.)
It all started when I was ten and puberty hit me long before any of my friends and long before anyone expected. I turned into a total, total emotional bitch (we won’t talk about my goth stage here, but… now you know). Things got weird, I got weird, and life pretty much stayed that way until, like, sophomore year in high school (I was still weird, don’t get me wrong, but in a less… obvious way).
Then life got tough, and I got resentful, and I put myself in situations that fueled the fire rather than put the fire out (haayyyy – high five to any self-mutilators in the crowd??). So I spiraled into an even bigger, more selfish, far more resentful bitch than before (I’m sounding pretty appealing right now, am I right?).
I ended up in Oklahoma, where life started to get back to how things were before the spiral, but I was still a mess and still a bitch and could never really get my shit together, no matter how hard I tried. My true friends kept by my side, regardless of how terrible I was, but for some reason I just couldn’t deal.
Then I met Papa Cheeks. Papa Cheeks reminded me of everything good I used to be, in between the resentment and the bitch, and he lit a (totally different) spark to make me want to be that person again – actually, not only to be that person again, but to be a better version of that person. I still had my strugs, but something about him drove me to want to be better.
Well, this sounds super wonderful, but we were also only together for like six months before we irresponsibly became pregnant.
…Aaaand that was a mess.
THEN Cheeky, Jr. showed up, and I didn’t know how to feel. Postpartum depression told me it wasn’t real, so I went along with that and pretended like Cheeky, Jr. was the best thing to happen to me, and oh my god I loved waking up five times a night, and holy shit yes it was great changing your life of no responsibility to total responsibility in a minute, and oh, for sure, I totally have this parenting thing down.
Until it was real, and I honestly didn’t mind waking up 5 times a night, and I started preferring a night in jammies with my son rather than a night downtown with friends – and yeah, actually, I think I’m starting to get this parenting thing down as much as I can, because Cheeky, Jr. is freaking cool.
And here I am, slipping up every once in a while, to the pre-mom mentality – but for the most part I really am keeping my shit together.
Note: Begin reading again here.
What does this have to do with being thankful?
Oh, there you are again, snarky reader!
Thanks for asking!
I am beyond thankful for everything – the shitty, just as much as the wonderful, experiences – leading me to this point in life. Who I am today would not have happened if I didn’t parent such an awesome kid every day. My day job, my small business, this blog, some of my really good friends, my decisions to forego and act on situations, would all be something totally different and probably undesirable.
But this small little guy (see below) has changed every inch of me for the better (pervy men say “yeaahhhh”), and I’m for sure thankful about that.
Anywho, that’s my shpeal for the evening – hope I didn’t turn anyone off with all the emotional stuff that just happened. Have a great night and thanks for reading!
Until next time,
PS: Check out my Instagram (@cheekythings_diapers) to see what else I’m thankful for this year – one photo a day until Thanksgiving.