Blessings.

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Generally I’m not one to gush. I don’t do the 30 days of gratitude thing on Facebook and I think it is unfortunate that November sometimes feels like a “hurry up and express all the gratitude you should have been expressing all year” month. Just like December is “Cram all the goodwill and kindness to others that you shouldn’t have missed the past 330ish days” month. But that’s not to say that I’m a bitter, cynical, and jaded old shrew. Well…Mostly. A week ago we blessed our baby girl and for those of you of the non-LDS persuasion, it’s very similar to a Catholic christening without the baptism, but instead of a priest saying the blessing it is usually the Father. They also wear an awesome white dress and everything.

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I am grateful. I’m grateful that she is too twitchy for any of the great smile pictures to be clear. I’m grateful that she put up with me positioning her and taking way too many pictures. I’m grateful to be her mom.

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I’m grateful for the epic lizard face and that it is making my son crack up laughing as I write this. Sometimes Layna’s answer is way better than the answer I would have given.

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I’m grateful that this little man is a fantastic big brother even though sometimes he forgets that his sisters do, in fact, have minds of their own. I’m grateful he comes from a long line of men who aren’t afraid to cry and can drive cross country like nobody’s business. I missed seeing the other men in that line, but meh…life, right?

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I can’t talk about how grateful I am for the husband guy without bawling so let’s just say it’s big. Really big. Same thing with how grateful I am to be a mom. Almost as big.

It was a good weekend and each kid’s blessing was a very different experience. Garyn had only been alive about a month when we blessed him and I was still feeling like I’d been hit by a Mack truck with the word “motherhood” on the side. It was new and overwhelming and stressful and sweet. Naomi’s blessing was calm and by the book. I cried and there were no surprises and everything went accordingly to plan. Layna’s made me cry for a different reason. I didn’t know what would be said about her but it was a beautiful blessing but there were not the normal promises of happy marriage and future family and education and big adventures. The tears came for the same reason they always do. Everything about Layna is conflicted, because everything is a reminder that I wish she didn’t have down syndrome. I love her deeply, like mama bear style I will end you if you mess with her, deeply. But meh. It is what it is and she rocks my world (good and bad) in ways that I wouldn’t change. Corra’s blessing was chill. I didn’t cry, but I smiled a lot. I was stressed and less focused on being in the moment than I should have been so I do feel like I missed something, but it also doesn’t seem to matter. She is perfect and I’m so grateful for the moments that I do feel present and focused. They make up for everything else and she gives me lots of them.

I’m grateful for life, even when it makes me want to scream and it makes me cry and it takes my breath away.

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