Today was the type of Thanksgiving that I used to imagine while we were in the throes of infertility; a house full of people, toddlers running around, everyone stuffing themselves full of turkey and stuffing while we watch the twins (well, in my imagination it wasn’t twins) try or throw all the new foods.

I was up early this morning, of course, and took off on my run. The roads were practically empty – I think I saw about as many runners as I did cars, and it was nice and peaceful.

Turkey Day Run
Turkey Day Run

We, naturally, dressed Abby in a frilly outfit.

I won't eat turkey but I'll gobble up some pie
I won’t eat turkey but I’ll gobble up some pie

And Bryan tried to make Miles a muscle man

He man Miles
He man Miles (shirt stuffed with balls)

But even with all the hustle and bustle, Bryan mentioned that he felt like he felt like he was having a bit of a rough day. The holidays can be quite a mix of happiness and heartache depending on your circumstances, and this is something I remember well. Not too terribly long ago I dreaded the quiet that came without the pitter patter of little feet or slew of toys all over the house, the toy commercials and the millions of pictures of my friends kids dressed in ridiculously cute outfits. Absolutely I am thankful for where we are, but I also understand those who are, for whatever reason counting down the days until the holidays are over.

Happy Thanksgiving and may you all have the holidays you imagine.

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