Thanksgiving

I spent Thanksgiving with Chad's family. I know, right? Weird.

But it wasn't.

Don't get me wrong. I almost cancelled twice. I wasn't sure how I'd feel about being there, how I'd interact with Chad, how his family would interact with me.

Wednesday night, I thought about calling my mother-in-law and saying the kids and I would be joining Sarah's family.

Then, as I was tucking Elizabeth into bed and giving her a dream, she asked, "Can I dream of Sophia and Sal and Uncle Matt and Aunt Nicole?"

Thursday morning, I lay in bed, my stomach in knots and thinking I'd just drop the kids off and go to Sarah's myself. Then, Joseph came into my room and jumped on my bed. "Happy Thanksgiving! Do you know what I'm thankful for? That we get to have Thanksgiving as a family, with you and Daddy together!"

So, I puttered around in the morning, slowly ironing shirts, putting the kids down for their naps, taking a long shower. I moved with that knot in my stomach twisting and turning. This - keeping the family traditions, making sure the kids celebrated the holidays with both Chad and I - this is what I want. It's how I want my divorce to be. I don't want to spend the holidays away from my kids. I don't want to divide their day up. I want a peaceful divorce.

But that sort of divorce isn't really the norm. And it's awkward for people to be around Chad and I. It's awkward for me to be around Chad. Still, I have to believe that the feelings will fade and instead of destroying the structure of our family, we'll simply find ourselves in a remodeled house.

It's going to take time. But, I truly believe we'll be there someday. Until then...I fake it until I make it.

When the kids woke up, I got them dressed, putting Elizabeth's hair in two tiny, curly pigtails for the first time. She was so proud of her new hairstyle. Walking out the door of our little house, I watched them scamper across the front yard and realized...it was going to be okay.

And it was.

We picked up Chad and arrived at his parents' house to the smell of turkey roasting, the sound of kids playing, and the football game on TV. We settled into the family as if everything was...normal.

And it was.

There were moments that felt like a punch in the gut.

When we took the kids on the treasure hunt - an annual tradition to get them out of the house - Chad and I called back and forth as we helped Elizabeth find her pine cones, rocks, and twigs. When her little legs got scratched by the prickly weeds, I picked her up and passed her to Chad, in a reflex as old as Joseph. I miss that...the passing of a child from my arms, to his.

He slipped up a few times, calling me baby. The sound of the word on his lips was so familiar, so natural. At the same time, it felt odd and alien.

As we stood in the kitchen getting ready to eat dinner, my sister-in-law hugged my brother-in-law. Chad and I were a few feet apart and for a moment, I felt that ache in my arms. That ache of having someone to hug at a holiday gathering. So, I snagged Elizabeth as she ran by and cuddled her close.

As we drove away, the kids already nodding off in the back seat, I realized I hadn't had anything to worry about.

And I gave thanks for that.