Today is Thanksgiving, and although I was in a funk earlier this week over my birthday (which my mother-in-law forgot, which is annoying because she sent out four emails this week micromanaging her own birthday celebration which won't occur until frigging July of next year), today I'm feeling happy and thankful.
I am so lucky to live in a beautiful house in one of the most beautiful cities of the world. Every day, I am surrounded by natural and manmade splendor. Even though I've lived here long enough that I don't pay a lot of attention to the gorgeous view from my bedroom window, every time I drive over 30th Avenue to pick up Iris Uber Alles at school, my breath is taken away as I crest that hill and see the Marin headlands and the bay.
And who out there has better children? Practically every day (except the days when they are being total little pills) I am amazed and astounded by how funny, smart, sweet, and beautiful Iris and Lola are. I drew the lucky sperms with those two girls, all right.
I have my health (true, my metabolism has just been hosed since I went on Paxil for post-partum depression, but I'm healthy!).
I have the one-of-a-kind Sober Husband., but the Sober Husband is a dogged kind of husband who always comes through when there's a problem. He's good-looking, brilliant, competent (always able to fix my sewing machine when it gets that annoying thread tension problem and able to find my "Project Runway Canada" fixes), and kind (although we are at odds currently over whether I can buy Iris a Hello Kitty electric guitar for Christmas).
I feel I've often had poor luck with friends, sometimes ending up falling out with them (ask me about the former BFF who vandalized my garage) and sometimes ending up having them move far away (lately I've been missing my BFF from my early legal career, who lives in France), but the truth is that I have some wonderful friends who are there for me and who are smart and funny.
And finally, I am so grateful for you readers. You listen to the stories of my little kids with the attention of a doting blood relative. When my kitten was mauled by a raccoon, you generously contributed and covered the emergency vet bills, enabling me to continue fostering kittens. You write comments which make me smile and sometimes laugh out loud. When I'm feeling depressed, you have kind things to say. You are each and every one of you appreciated very much (well, maybe not so much the one who wrote nasty things about me on the Elizabeth Wurtzel entry, but I suspect she hasn't bookmarked the page). You're a part of my life now, oddly enough (indeed I've had "real life" friends ask me such things as, "So, what's up with Hughman?") Smooches to each and every one of you, your devoted Drunken Housewife.
10 comments:
thanks for your great writing, your wonderful insights and for sharing your awesome family with all of us lucky readers!! i feel like part of a very special group here and love it.
I think you went a bit far with the 'better children' ;-)
I feel really lucky to have stumbled on your blog and your life - it's a pity you're a continent away.
I am thankful for you, DH, and your children,and the Sober Husband, and Hughman and Silliyak, and all those who comment regularly.
((()))
You like me, YOU REALLY LIKE ME!!! Sniff sniff
The SH is cute isn't he?
OK, if no one else will, "I" will ask about your vandalized garage.
So what's up with Hughman?
Nice post - there's always something to be thankful for.
Thanks, DH. You're a bit of a lucky find yourself.
I am sorry about your birthday, DH, that sucks. My dad never really put a huge amount of effort into decor or anything, Depression-era Ohio farmboy he still is inside, but he did not ever forget.
My own birthday is a week away, snuggled in there between Thanksgiving and Christmas, and (gut wrench time) a few days before the day my mother died when I turned nine.
The stuff going on around the world makes the plastic gift exchange seem all the more wasteful. I'd rather people put that money towards charity or something.
Now, mind you, I love doing birthdays for others, Christmas for Mrs. Thi and the Thi-lets. I'm just not one to toot my own horn.
Silliyak, you are the most polite man alive this side of the Dalai Lama. No one else asked, so you made sure to ask. I will tell the anecdote, but it's a longish story that needs a good block of time for me to write it out.
I'll bet that at the Silliyak-Moonrabbit, household, Silliyak always lets Moonrabbit take the last cookie (whereas in my household, Lola takes both the penultimate and the ultimate cookie, leading Iris to harangue her for half an hour).
Thanks, everyone!
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