What am I thankful for?

I know, its hokie, but every year at this time I follow the ol' cliché and think/list what I am thankful for. It's like a ritual for me. Giving me time to reflect on the year and on my life and look at the positives. Some days we can get bogged down in what we wish we could change (and what we are in the process of changing), but this week is for being thankful for what I have.

I am thankful for my husband, who supports me no matter what, knows his crazy wife will do crazy things and can be unreasonable in her desires to do it all. He helps me and guides me to do it all.

I am thankful for my son who accepts me as his mom, who understands when I am not the perfect parent, and who is a pretty darn good kid in spite of our occasional failings as leaders in his life.

I am thankful for my father who has always told me that there isn't anything in this world I can't do. He has always supported me, loved me and guided me, and while I acknowledge, like Edward's parents, he is/was not perfect, but he did a damn fine job of raising me and my brother, and continues to be there for us, and also to be our friend.

I am thankful for my brother, who is my inspiration. I have always looked up to him, and admired his drive. He is a go getter and does what he sets out to do. I hope to one day be half as good a nurse as he is.

I am thankful for my friends who I can call on at any moment, day or night. I am very blessed with some incredible people in my world and know that the universe has smiled on me when these incredible people were put in my path to walk beside me.

I am thankful that I have a roof over my head, have the few meager items that I can call mine, and know I am secure in my environment. Whenever I start to feel lacking materialistically, God throws something in my way to make me realize how fortunate I am. Katrina and Rita did that this year.

Speaking of hurricanes... I am thankful that I had the opportunity to go to Louisiana to effect a change in the lives of those affected by Mother Nature's wrath. I could use my skills to help my fellow man. If that is not a gift from God, I don't know what is.

I am thankful that there are others out there that felt as I did, and also volunteered their time to help out in Louisiana. I have made friends with people I so admire. Bob, Rory, Seth and Ben will forever have a very special place in my heart. I have been blessed with a few short days of their lives, and my life is all the more richer for having occupied the same space with these incredible people. I learned from them all, I respect and admire them, and smile at the love that they gave to the world.

I find in reviewing what I have just written that the things I am thankful for aren't "things" for the most part, but people. I have always known that people are the most important part of my life. I hope they know that. I'm glad I do.

One last thanksgiving thought to note... Just like last year, this year the turkey took far less time to cook than I thought. Note to self... A 16# fresh turkey can cook in my electric roaster in 90 minutes. Well, I guess I am also thankful for electronic blogs. Next year perhaps I will remember to check this post before putting the bird on the fire. I know my guests will be thankful for that.

Ka-Boom!

I blew up at my kid today.

I am a stern, but loving mom. My son has a healthy fear of my authority, but knows I love him. Tonight I scared myself, and him too.

I asked him to change the sheets on his bed and he had a bit of a challenge with it. No problem, I helped, but then I found what was under his mattress. A bottle of his father's special order butterscotch rootbeer. Not a big deal. It could have been a bottle of real beer had we had some in the house, but the fact that he snuck it made me upset. I called his dad to see the evidence, and let him deal with it. Moments later, I was called back to his room. Not only was the empty rootbeer bottle there, there was my husband's foot long dager he bought for renaissance festival garb, 2 of my bras and a game boy that we did not buy for him.

My blood pressure rose, he told us he didn't know how that stuff got there. A bold face lie, right to my face. Not a flinch. I went nuts. I spanked him (which has only happened a few times in his life and not since he has been "grown up") I called him a thief and told him he was lying to me, and I would not tolerate liers in my house. I threatened, I yelled and I felt like shit as my kid cried.

He did tell me the truth. He knows taking the rootbeer was wrong but "he was thirsty" (he did acknowledge that he has never been for want of something to drink.) He did admit that he took my bras because he was curious as to what they felt like (he has a cruch on a girl in his school who is an early bloomer.) He admitted that he took his father's dager, waved it around a few times in his room then tucked it under his mattress because he couldn't get it back where it came from without being caught. And the game boy he bought from a classmate last year for $2.00. It was broken and didn't have any games with it so I'm not sure why he wanted it in the first place. I asked if there was anything else he wanted to fess up about since he was coming clean, and he admitted he had my husband's epee in his closet as well.

I still feel like shit. I said some terrible things. I hit him. I HIT HIM. What the hell is wrong with me. I know he wasn't abused, I didn't wail on him it was much more of an emotional hurt than anything, but I hit my child in anger and I am ashamed. I cried. He knows I feel bad about losing my temper, because I told him I was wrong. I told him I lost my temper and that is no excuse for my behavior. I feel horrible still.

I told him I love him. I held him for over 1/2 hour. He kissed me, said he loves me and he forgives me, and he is sorry he did what he did.

I still feel like shit.

We gutted his room. Packed everything up in garbage bags and boxes and they are all in the guest room. We will go through them in the weeks to come. We were going to do this anyhow, he has outgrown so many of his toys, he wants to give them away to kids less fortunate. His room is spotless, vacuumed and rearranged. I'll help him figure out what to keep and what can go. I just hope I can heal from what I did. I feel horrible.

I remember so clearly the arguments I had with my father growing up. Some of them still hurt. But he never hit me. I hit my child. I may never forgive myself for this. I hope some day Edward can. He says he does, but I can't believe him yet. How can he forgive me when I can't forgive myself?