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It’s the Bug’s first Thanksgiving and we’re keeping it mellow. Auntie Kimmy flew into town, and we will be celebrating,  just the four of us. Now that Addison’s on solid food, we will be serving her mashed up squash and sweet potatoes BECAUSE WE ARE FESTIVE, damnit. And James, Kimmy and I will be consuming the four, I repeat, FOUR pies that we spent all afternoon preparing.

Four pies. Three people. Perfect math.

Mmm. Pie.

There’s a bazillion and one things I’m grateful for this Thanksgiving. Namely, that I will be consuming four pies on the big day. But, on a less fat kid club note, I walked into the nursery this evening to find James and Sunny twirling and swirling around to some Sinatra while the Bug beamed with her open-mouthed, toothy grin, hair fluttering in the wake of each twist and dip. I was stopped dead in my tracks as I flashed forward to age five when she’ll be led by his toes, and again to her wedding day, when she’ll be filled with the kind of love that I feel pulsing in my heart every moment of every day since she entered the world. Because of her, everything just makes sense.

So this Thanksgiving, I am grateful to be whole. Complete. A family.

Raspberries and spoon farting to boot.