Thanksgiving Comes Early

So, the thing is... Thanksgiving came early this year.

I've been going through sort of a hard time lately. I know it's been noticeable in my column and I am sorry for that. I know it because my best friend Linda, after agonizing over it, wrote me to say that she thought I had lost the focus of this column. I just haven't seemed myself for quite a while and she was concerned.

Well, she was right. It wasn't the big, earth-shaking kind of a crisis of faith that makes you sell all your belongings and move to some commune without electricity or (heaven forbid) Internet access. I think those are actually easier to deal with in some ways. (At least they are harder to ignore.) But I was just... I don’t know... struggling a bit -- beset by this mean-spirited, low-grade depression. I've been dwelling on the wrong things. Having two small children is hard work -- I mean, hard physical labor-- and the days are long. It's not that fun managing the bodily functions of two small humans, not to mention the fact that one of them is going through a phase where she just plain doesn't LIKE me half the time. It hurts my feelings.

And I'm a little lonely. Smiley Jane is still not on a predictable schedule, so it's hard to make plans to meet friends for lunch or a walk or anything. Gosh, just getting a haircut or going to the dentist takes an alignment of the planets! SOMEONE always needs to be fed, or changed or has gone too long without a nap or a hug or a band-aid. Plus, I can't ever seem to get to a point of semi-organization --I who used to print my file folder names in alphabetical order. I am so behind! We've lived in this house for more than a year and I still don't even have a place for everything. And everyone I see just seems to being doing a better job at this than I am, despite the fact that I'm trying so hard.

And, plus, dammit, I have pantry moths.

So anyway, I was good and blue but I think I've been afraid to talk about how hard this is for me for fear that if I say it out loud, that I will have to forfeit this life I've chosen. Remember that folk tale where the magic fish grants the poor peasant couple one wish after another as their demands escalate until, exasperated, the fish returns them to their miserable way of life? I don't want to appear ungrateful! So many people want what I have. My kids are funny and bright and beautiful. We want for nothing. My husband is a fully involved, supportive and loving partner. What is WRONG with me? Shouldn't I be more fulfilled? Shouldn't I be happier?

So then, two things happened. One is that I was talking with a friend, Mary, who is not only an experienced mother of three, but she's also hysterically funny and wise. We were just kind of chatting along and I casually asked her how she stayed so positive and energetic when it was just all I could do not to fall on the floor and strike myself at any given moment. This is (some of) what she said:

“Dear Barb, hang in there. Motherhood --there is no substitute. Its highs are never overrated, but its lows need more discussion. ...I've been told people lost in the forest die of shame. I was, like, “shame? Don't you mean hunger or thirst? Or they get eaten?” No. It is because they are ASHAMED of getting lost and berate themselves for it, feel helpless and just GIVE UP. I think a lot of women out there hurt themselves by not asking for help in finding their way through the forest (parenting).”

So, I started mulling that over, recognizing that I had just been given exactly what I needed in the nick of time, as so often seems to happen in my blessed life. And I realized for the first time what I want this column to be -- a little trail of breadcrumbs out of the forest. I'm not an expert at parenting. I have no hard-won degrees in child psychology or education. What I am is a good mother. And if I can make the path through this huge forest a little easier to travel for those who come behind me, or those traveling with me, or those just objectively documenting alongside, then I am grateful for the chance.

A few days later Jane took a swan dive out of her high chair onto the ceramic tile floor in the kitchen. She landed on her head, without breaking her fall with her hands and we had to rush her to the doctor. She was fine, although the diagnosis was “blunt head trauma.” (I still shudder to think of it.) After we returned home and I fell completely to pieces, I had one of those moments of complete appreciation for my husband, who is the calmest and most comforting person I have ever known, especially in a crisis. And, even more amazing, he's exactly the right mate for ME --playing on my strengths and downplaying my weaknesses and just in general being the one person with whom I would most like to spend my life. I don't know how we came to find each other in this mad world.

So, the thing is... in the midst of all that, suddenly, I felt much better about EVERYTHING. It just sort of hit me. Yeah, so this time in my life is not about glamour. Or leisure. (Or solitary trips to the bathroom.) But this part of my life is rich in people who act as cheerleaders. There are so many women I know who are willing themselves to act as guides out of the forest. I have so many friends --I may not see them in person that often (heck, some of them I've never even MET in person!) but I am RICH in people who care.

For me, the answer to contentment, in this phase of my life and every other, is the connection I make with other people. I am so grateful for Mary, for reaching out to me like a candle in the darkness. I'm so grateful to my husband for a million reasons, not the least of which is that he never cracked a smile when I stated my intention to go to medical school so that I never feel so helpless again. I am grateful for Linda, who just wanted to tell me she noticed I was struggling and she was there for me. I am grateful beyond measure for that one doctor in our pediatrician's practice whom I don’t really even LIKE but who was so obviously competent and knowledgeable that we took our Smiley Jane home, reassured. And I am so grateful that my mom just happened to be visiting this weekend and held me while I cried.

Not to be too Oprah about it but I think thankfulness is a way of life, a perspective to bring to each new challenge in our lives. I can choose to be thankful for the people in my life or I can dwell on the lack of things that really don't matter. I can be grateful for the opportunity to help others and I can be grateful for those who help me, even when I didn't know that I'd lost my way. And it's simply amazing that when you bring your smiling, thankful self to meet the world, it's contagious! Even Ana, who told me today to “please go away,” can't resist smiling at a mom who is genuinely happy and thankful for her.

So, I guess what I hope is that this is a breadcrumb. And I hope Thanksgiving comes early for all of you, too. God bless you, and help you recognize how you are already blessed.

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Barbara Cooper is the mother of Ana (3.5) and Jane (1). She lives in Austin, Texas and she's thinking about putting down really plush, soft CARPET from one end of the house to the other.