Playing catch-up here.
Day 6: I am thankful for our church family at First United Methodist Church. Day 6 fell on a Sunday - specifically, the first Sunday of the month. First Sundays bring with them "Children First" services, which are led by Mister Mark, who could give Trout Fishing in America or Laurie Berkner a run for the money. Seriously, he should have a major recording contract, and a concert tour, and a show on Noggin. Until he gets all of that, we are more than content to have him run our Children's Ministry.
Children First services are hilarious. On this particular Sunday, Mister Mark put his own unique spin on the story of Mary and Martha, with his assistant and one of the ministers acting out the story in pantomime. Did I mention that the minister who played Martha was male? At one point, said minister ad libbed a line (in falsetto), and Mister Mark looked at him and said, "You know, Mike, it's really not a speaking part."
LOVE Mister Mark. And the kids love him, too.
Day 7: Thankful to be in my forties. After the Children First service, I headed to a local baseball park, with the fam in tow, to participate in the Junior Woman's Club softball tournament. By "participate," I mean "lead my department's team in a half-dance/half-cheer that I choreographed to Shania Twain's 'Man, I Feel Like a Woman' as part of the opening ceremonies." Girlfriend doesn't play softball - never has, never will. But I do dance, and I did enjoy watching my fellow Encore members, who, for the third year running, came darned close to stealing the title away from the presumptive favorite. This is significant, because Encore is a department whose membership consists of mostly 40 to 45 year-olds. The fact that we more than hold our own against twentysomethings appeals to me. We held our own in the dance/cheer category as well. Personally, I think that we should have won best performance honors, 'cause we kind of rocked it, but our enthusiasm and overall awesomeness obviously did not go unnoticed, as we ended up winning the "Best Sportsmanship" prize.
Good times, with awesome ladies - all of them living proof that life does not end at forty, but gets a heck of a lot sassier, and unapologetic, and a whole lot of other good things.
Day 8: Thankful for my Junior Woman's Club and Woman's Club friends. See Day 7, above. Particularly thankful that my days as president (and immediate past president) are over, and I can fly below the radar when I want to. Flying below the radar is good. Kind of novel, and really, REALLY good.
Day 9: Thankful for my mother, who, according to the Social Security Administration, was born on November 9th. According to my grandmother, she was born on November 10th. I think we can agree that my grandmother probably has the clearer memory of when my mom was born, right? So November 10th has always been Mom's recognized birthday in our family, which is kind of cool, because my husband is also a November 10th baby. (Explains why they occasionally butt heads - they are WAY too alike.) But when Mom retired and had to deal with the Social Security Office for the first time probably since she got married and changed her name, she was reminded of the discrepancy in dates and was informed that, as far as the federal government is concerned, she does NOT share a birthday with her son-in-law. At this point, she gave up the ghost and accepted the 9th as her actual birthday. I still haven't accepted it, and probably never will. But I devoted Day 9 to her, in part so that I could devote Day 10 fully to my spouse.
Day 10: Thankful for - duh - my spouse. Who is, indisputedly, a November 10th baby. We celebrated his birthday by - um, doing nothing together as a family. Because he wanted it that way. I should explain: we all went out to dinner on the 9th to celebrate both my mom's birthday and his birthday, and we had gone out for a big dinner the night before that, and his birthday fell on a Thursday, and he plays tennis on Thursdays, and - for various reasons - he had missed tennis three consecutive Thursdays prior. So when I asked him what he wanted to do on his birthday, he said, "Honestly? Play tennis." And I did not get my feelings hurt. The boy deserves a stress reliever. Heaven knows we're under enough stress right now. And I plan on spending a number of birthdays with him in the future. In our own home, dammit.