Today I’m thankful for the way the sun warmed my legs in the car, for a doctor who listens, for giving away yellow flowers and getting to say goodbye, for laughter at the dinner table, and for sweet kisses.

It’s been a long 5 weeks. Processing the miscarriage was emotionally difficult but I’m grateful that the physical aspect of it wasn’t terrible. Well, beyond the waiting for it to happen. And the awkwardness of wondering what to do with the plans we made when we thought we’d need to make room for a baby in our lives. I spent a couple of weeks having strange dreams where I had hair made of tin that I couldn’t dye a natural color and where my boyfriend insisted that if I couldn’t have a baby then he needed to move on. I’m sure it was my fears coming through. In my family sociology class we read about the life course perspective on aging where we all go through phases…one leading to another. We are expected to continue through the phases until we are old and die. We are socialized to act in expected and acceptable ways during those phases. I think I was struggling with the idea that I am supposed to be in a certain place–that one where I’ve raised my kids and I’m done and should now just age gracefully and eventually retire. In fact, some of my friends think I’m crazy for wanting to start over now. But the truth is, I just don’t see myself the same way. I’ve always kind of deviated from the script. Why should I stop now? So we’ve decided to go ahead with plans, move in together, and try again.

My girls’dad doesn’t approve. Neither does his new wife. I got a phone call from him expressing concern with my moving plans (he’s rather religious and thinks I should be married) and a letter from her (outlining what a horrible mother I am). This gave me pause, not because I care what they think, but I worried that my kids were upset about things and didn’t share it with me. I had talked to them several times over the last couple of months, since all of this affects them. But I talked to them again. I didn’t share the contents of the letter or the details of my conversation with their dad, I only asked that they be honest with me, as they usually are. As I told them, their dad no longer knows me. And I’ve never even had a conversation with his wife, so she certainly doesn’t know me. My only worry was what they thought. Thankfully, my kids know me. And they are grown up enough to understand that you can have a difference of opinion or viewpoint without condemning a person. They are good with the changes, which makes me grateful. After all, I told them that this is it for me. It’s taken a while and I’ve had some rather crummy relationships along the way, but I’ve found my guy. And he’s pretty awesome.

One of my grad classes this term is on the sociology of the family. Thus far, we’ve had to define our family (who we include and why), as well as read through and identify with various theories. It’s made me think about family dynamics and definitions in a little bit of a different light, and I’m not surprised that my definition has changed over the years. Many people in the class related to what’s called structural functionalism or consensus theory; it’s basically that we have roles we play for the greater good because doing so keeps harmony. It explains the traditional breadwinner/homemaker view of family that so many of us grew up with. It’s what I started out believing would work for me as well. I like the idea of the balance and tradition. But as I mentioned in class, going through a divorce has changed that for me. It was probably one of the hardest parts of being divorced, being thrust out of that comfort zone. There is no balance in being a single parent. Managing a house and children singly means being self-reliant. Oftentimes frazzled, frustrated, scared, but stronger, and resilient. I now find myself identifying more with an exchange theory of relationships. One where each person brings a strength and weakness to the mix and thus a relationship is formed because it’s beneficial to both parties. While it sounds rather business-like (it is a bit pragmatic and rational), it makes more sense to me. By this definition, there is a constant process of give and take, a bargaining our textbook calls it, whereby people discuss what will work best for them. Maybe it’s not romantic, but I like the idea that whatever kind of relationship works for people is ok. There are no hard and fast rules. By this definition, I can also include whomever I’d like into my family. It’s not just blood that defines it. I have several people I consider family because they add meaning to my life. I benefit greatly by their addition. My local mom. Girlfriends who are like sisters. My boyfriend. And I include the dogs and my cat. (Not my daughter’s fish, though. I draw the line there. Besides, they keep dying, so it’s hard to keep track.) At any rate, thinking about family in an objective way has been interesting. I wonder how my own personal definition may continue to evolve. I’m grateful for my family–the intimate group I consider my immediate family as well as the larger, extended, crazy group related by blood and marriage. I’m lucky to have all of it.

So I went 9 days without writing. In fact, I purposely avoided it. I wanted to take a break from it so I didn’t feel the pressure anymore. But I do kinda miss it. Writing daily with everything else I have going on was hard, but I do like writing. And although we’ve had a terrible frigid freeze going on right now, and I’m back to work, and my house is a mess again because I’ve been too lazy to properly put away everything from Christmas and my travels, I have had some things for which I’ve been grateful. My boyfriend and I spent a couple of extra days in Texas after New Years. I got to see the Alamo and the Riverwalk in San Antonio.

Did a lot of driving around Austin and finding interesting spots. Went to the Hill Country and drank wine and visited Fredricksburg.

Ate good food. (I’m not thankful about gaining holiday weight, though.) I’m also grateful that the 17 hour drive back with a packed van and a bored dog went well.

We avoided a nasty storm that put numerous cars in the ditches along the highway, somehow managed to not get sick of each other during two days of driving, and made it home early enough to unpack before dark. Although the sunset the day before was beautiful.

It was a lovely vacation for me. Now I’m in January mode, which includes preparing for a new semester at work and for my own studies, thinking about organizing around home, and starting to get back to exercise. The normal routine waits. But I’m thankful for the great start to the New Year.