I am deeply, sincerely thankful to be in this season of life. 4 little boys. The pile of damp mittens and snow pants by the door. The chatter of their sweet conversations held over cinnamon toast at the counter in the morning. The visible laughter in their sparking blue eyes. The smell of their skin after an afternoon playing in the sun. The warmth of their breath, snuggled deep in a tangle of blankets as they sleep. The sound of their feet racing through the hall in the wee hours of the morning (side note: whoever described it as “pitter-patter” must have had girls).

I know better than to actively hurry these moments away with thoughts of what comes next and how, surely once the youngest is X years old, I will be less tired and maybe even have time to get one of those hobbies people sometimes reference. But I’ll be honest here: I do fantasize about certain experiences, ranging from mundane to extravagant — but they don’t make sense until the kids are old enough to engage with it.

On Thanksgiving day, we found ourselves up north for a long weekend of R&R. The weather was foggy and wet, so the boys entertained themselves indoors with a cache of Legos — or, in A’s case, evidently by switching the dryer to “Air Fluff” mode, which would confound his parents for hours the next day as the laundry kept coming out damp. We ate frozen pizza for dinner, minimizing time spent cleaning up after the meal so we could find ourselves snuggled on the couch by 6. We turned on Home Alone. By the time the crooks were staggering through Kevin McCallister’s booby-trapped home, O and J were actively shouting “YES!” “He is the greatest!” “They’re going to slip on that — watch, Mom, watch!”

Years ago, I fantasized about these low-key movie nights, particularly those that feature flicks that I remember fondly. Until just recently, we couldn’t count on both O & J to stay seated and pay close enough attention to follow the plot arc of a full-length film. I am so thankful to find myself here where we can enjoy these moments together.

The passage of time is a double-edged sword with kids. There may come a day when all 4 boys are old enough to participate in a family movie night, and perhaps at that time I will think longingly about how sweet it was to be interrupted from a movie by a baby needing comfort that only his mother could provide, or a toddler with a 7pm bedtime who needed to be sung to sleep.

But so far — and without exception — I have found that every stage of life has something to look forward to. Not to rush away the days that color your life’s story, but to appreciate the moment you are in while simultaneously recognizing the excited anticipation about what lies ahead.

So this year, while my sons are thankful for dragons, Spider-Man, and fire trucks (respectively), I am thankful for arriving at a simple yet lovely fantasy… thankful to be exactly where I am today, and thankful that as fleeting as these moments may be, there are always more ahead.

My grandma’s dishes, serving our ad hoc Thanksgiving Tuesday with my parents – because I’m not quite “woke” enough to only have frozen pizza for our Thanksgiving meal.