Days 81 and 82

81: I'm grateful Clark got an A on his Spanish project.

82: My friend Lynn is a therapist. Her specialty is teenagers. I have a teenager. She knows him. Yesterday Lynn and I went for a long walk (for which we were underdressed, come to find out) and talked about motivation. As we walked through the cemetary, she reassured me. My teenager, she said, would be fine. I know this in my heart of hearts, but it never hurts to hear it from an expert.

Having a therapist friend who knows your teenager is a wonderful thing, and something to be grateful for.

Day 80

About 150 people, some of them my friends, lost their jobs today at the company where I used to work. My heart goes out to all of them. I think must be doubly hard when you lose a job at a great company: If you define it as great, that means you believe in it. And if you believe in it, you invest yourself in it fully. This is, of course, what makes the company great in the first place--engaged employees investing themselves fully. It'll probably be a rocky road for these folks for a while, but I truly believe everyone who lost their jobs will be okay in the end. The brand and name recogntion they worked so hard to build for the company will now work for them during their job search. And it should.

Having gone through all this a few years ago with my D.H., I'm grateful for the passing of time, and the perspective it brings.

Day 79

Okay, let's get right to it: I'm grateful my children went back to school today. I love them beyond comprehension, but the freelance life I lead already has so little structure that it's almost impossible to get any work done without the modicom of structure and rhythm provided by the school day.

When Clark and Madeline were in elementary school, it was because they needed me. Now, it's because they are interesting young adults and therefore distracting. It used to be they wanted me to play "restaurant" with them and order pretend food that they could cook and serve and (Clark's favorite part) charge me for. Now that movies no longer have to be rated G, now that the stores we shop in have my size, as well as girl sizes, now that my kids like going to coffee shops, I want to play with them. It's like playing hooky--and I don't even mind much when Clark walks two steps ahead of me pretending he doesn't know me. All this is fine for family bonding but not for productivity. "To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under heaven."--Ecclesiastes 3:1.

Days 76, 77, 78

Because the Bad Puppy has been so bad when we're not in the house (making the kitchen counter her personal snack bar and sneaking up to Madeline's bed to nap), we've resorted to crating her. On Friday, we spent the afternoon in front of a fire at Doug and Kristine's and then went straight to Clark's hockey game, and we were gone longer than we should have been if you're the dog that's been left behind in a crate. By the time we got back, her nose was pressed up against the crate door and when I opened it, she didn't even pause to greet me--she just dashed to the back door and outside to do her business. I'm grateful she was able to hold it until we arrived.

Saturday evening we went to Lois's Thanksgiving Leftovers Party, where Kristin, who works at the college counseling center, reminded me to let my kids fail and suffer the consequences. I'm grateful for the reinforcement because baby it's hard! I think we're getting better at letting them own their decisions, but we haven't yet figured out how to let go of the worry. I'm taking suggestions, if anyone has them.

Today I tried to catch up with Book Club reading--Of Time and the River, by Thomas Wolfe, who writes cheerful, uplifting passages like this one: "Immense and cruel skies bend over us, and all of us are driven on forever and ever and we have no home. . .and we walk the streets, we walk the streets forever, we walk the streets of life alone." I'm grateful that, while there have been times when his grim assessment of life would have resonated with me, at the moment it does not.

Day 75--Thanksgiving, a day late

It seems I should come up with something large and exceedingly meaningful today, but when I look deep into my heart, I have to say I'm thankful that my sister and brother-in-law hosted Thanksgiving dinner this year. We've done it for the past six or seven, and it's just nice to have a break. Brad and I and the kids all slept late and then read the paper (which was really only a bunch of flyers) then Madeline baked her world-famous chocolate chip cookies and I made a salad. Oh, to make only cookies and a salad on Thanksgiving Day! Bev and Al are such gracious hosts; everything just looks nicer and tastes better, which could make me feel slightly incompetent, if I choose it let it, which I won't. I'll just be thankful.

Day 74

True to form, Madeline wiggled, twisted, and at last wrested her last baby tooth from her mouth tonight. I had to put on my reading glasses in order to see the pebble-sized molar, lightly frosted with blood, and admire it properly. Brad made noises about the Tooth Fairy, and she didn't contradict him (even though a tooth or two ago she would have), and that made me remember a note she wrote to the Tooth Fairy when she was six. I dug it out of her baby book and here it is: Dear tooTh FairY, I reaLLy WaNT To KeeP my Tooth. LOVE MadeLiNe. I'm grateful for Madeline's spirit. Not every kid has the guts to stand up to the tooTh FairY.

Day 73

Right now we're reading Of Time and the River, by Thomas Wolfe, but The Awakening, by Kate Chopin, was our first book club book. Tonight we celebrated our 15-year anniversary. Our group has evolved (Lois and I are the only two remaining members of the original six--or was it eight?), but we've met faithfully over the years to have serious discussions about books, staying true to our original mission of the group: to read books that we otherwise might not have read. For me, this meant non-fiction. Without book club, I never would have read Savage Beauty or Truth and Beauty or Autobiography of a Face or Liars' Club. It would have been my loss. I don't have the patience to figure out how to link to the four-page, single-spaced list of all the books we've read, but I'll e-mail it to anyone who wants it.

I'm thankful for the members of The Book Club, who love talking about books and life and the relationship of books to life. My life is richer because of our discussions and the varied reading I've had to do has, I hope, made my writing stronger.

(By the time we thought to officially name it, its unofficial name had mysteriously become official--kind of like common law marriage).

Day 72

Christmas Vespers at Hope College is my favorite part of Advent, and today I snagged tickets for me and Ann. I'm grateful I thought to call on them before the performances sold out.

Days 69, 70, and 71

Day 69: I have the most amazing group of friends right in my hood. They are involved in the mental health professions, academics, business, religion, and politics. We're currently talking about the book Simply Christian and had a great discussion about justice and theodicy. I'm grateful for the open conversation as we all try to understand life's most difficult questions.

Day 70: Both kids out, a lemon drop martini, a good movie, my guy. It just doesn't take much to make me happy or grateful.

Day 71: Madeline asked me just now if she could keep a framed picture of me, my old friend Wendy, and Wendy's horse in her room. A few years ago, Wendy was diagnosed with Stage 3C breast cancer. Chemo and radiation killed more of her than they left alive, but when all the treatment was over, like the phoenix, she rose from the ashes. Today she's happy and healthy--luminous, even, since she's in love. She never had any doubt that this, not death, was waiting for her on the other side of cancer. She's what my friend Hope would call "a beezer"--someone who's optimistic even when the deck is stacked against her. I'm grateful Wendy was right. Of course, she always (thinks she) is.

Day 68

My kids are both in band and one of the class requirements is to attend a concert outside of school. Hope College, which is just a few blocks from our house, offers many concerts and tonight at 7:20 we raced down to the college's Dimnent Chapel, where we'd heard that Hope's jazz band and Bug would be playing at 7:30. We got a great parking spot. That should've been our first clue. Inside, there were no musicians. There were no people, either, except one: the jazz band director's wife, who also thought the concert was there. In short order, she was able to find out where the rest of the audience and the musicians were, and she told us, and we still made it to the concert on time. I'm grateful that for once we were in the right place at the right time, even though it actually was the wrong place at the right time.

Day 67

My friend Hope and I were talking today about the internal demons we have to get past to get any writing done, and about how you never get past them for good. The next day, you have to get up and do it all over again. Day after that, same story. "Like that movie Groundhog Day," she said. I'm grateful to have writing friends who understand all aspects of the writing life and don't even think you're crazy when you talk about demons. Although, as writers themselves, they may not be the best judges of sanity.

Day 66 (late)

b. November 13, 1993, at 10:05 a.m.; 7 lbs., 2 oz., 19.5 inches. The brightest, most intensely curious dark eyes. A shock of black hair. And, after a few months, delicious Sumo thighs. I thought I knew about love before Clark was born, but now--14 years later--I can see I knew nothing. I'm grateful for Clark, our happy, healthy, kind, smart, and funny boy-man, who hates homework and lives for hockey and lights up our lives with his spirit.

Day 65

Here's an excerpt of an e-mail I got from a high school student who read How It's Done: "It really touched me. Because I am in a way going through the same things as Grace [the main character] and it made me realize that maybe this boy that I'm seeing might really just be my escape from reality. But this book made me wake up. And I thank you from the bottom of my heart."

And here's an excerpt of an e=mail I got from a Mary Margaret reader: "I bought your Mary Margaret books for my 9 year old daughter. I wanted to let you know how MUCH we are enjoying reading them together. It is not often we are both enjoying the book equally. Lots of laugh aloud moments and such a wonderful narrative voice. Thanks for writing them."

I received both these e-mails on the same day. And even though it happened way last week, I'm still grateful for them. As a writer, I live for stuff like this--any indication that a) people other than family members and friends are reading my books and b) the stories I write make an impact. Hearing that my work makes someone think or laugh is definitely something to be grateful for.

Day 64

Suffice it to say that it was an emotionally exhausting day on the parenting front and I'm grateful the day is over.

Day 63 (late)

The dinner menu wasn't very inspired (lasagna and salad) but Mom and Dad came over at the last minute, anyway, to help us celebrate Clark's birthday. We put candles in the leftover cake and sang Happy Birthday all over again. I'm thankful Mom and Dad are still able to join in the fun--and that they still want to.

Clark wasn't wild about the presents we picked out for him. He was polite when he opened them (the football from Madeline was a big hit, as were the comic books from Aunt Bev), but I could tell he was disappointed about not getting the PSP. When I asked him about his gifts later, he said the American Eagle sweater was "girly," so I guess we'll be heading back to the mall. So much for our best efforts.

Day 62 (late)

For his birthday, Clark chose to invite six friends to open skate at the ice rink and then come back home for cake, ice cream, and Wii. This involved transporting other people's children in our van. I'm grateful that the tire on the minivan waited to go flat until the van was back in the garage and the children happily scarfing down cake. It's true that the light on the dashboard has been indicating for the last several days that something on a tire was amiss. Also true: Brad ascertained that the tires were fine; it was the indicator that had a problem. Why have indicator lights on the dashboard at all when we don't trust them?

Day 61 (late)

I'm not wild about November, December, January, or February. I can be happy during "the dark days" (as we refer to them here in West Michigan, where we can easily go 20 days at a time in winter without seeing the sun), but I have to work at it. A sense of humor helps; the trick is maintaining it. I've returned the Six Feet Under DVDS--they are no friend to me now--and borrowed the David Sedaris box set of his books on CD. I'm grateful for comedians who make me laugh, and for Lorna who so generously loaned me the laughs.

Day 60

I'm grateful for Bob Evans' package of frozen peppers, potatoes, sausage, and onions. Fry it up, add eggs, and voila! Dinner is served. Or breakfast, I guess. But we like it for dinner, with a half glass of a nice chianti, which explains why we like to eat this dish at dinner.

Day 59

Clark had to be at his first band concert of the year at 6:30 tonight. My friend Deb called at 4:45. "Check the hem on Clark's tux," she said. "I just discovered Henry's tux isn't hemmed." Come to find out, Clark's wasn't, either. I'm grateful she took the time to call me so I could hem it at the last minute instead of at the very last minute.

Day 58

At breakfast this morning, my kids said they thought I should get out of the house to do my writing--the library or a coffee shop. Maybe they're afraid I'll get cabin fever. (Remember Jack Nicholson in The Shining? All those neatly stacked pages of "his novel" on which he'd typed "All work and no play, make Jack a dull boy"? Beware the house-bound writer!)

I ended up at Barnes & Noble, where you can get Internet access--for 20 frickin' bucks a month! How long has that been going on?! I was disgruntled. Now what was I supposed to do--write?

I wasn't happy about it, but that's exactly what I did. I ended up writing about twice as much in the same amount of time as I normally do at home, probably in large part because I couldn't fritter time away on the Internet. And the bonus of the day was I saw my friend Anna from a distance, chased her down, and lured her to my cafe table. (Which just goes to show you can't take the frittering out of me; I always find a way.) I'm grateful I went to the trouble of packing up my computer and files and dragging my sorry behind out of my stuffy office. The change of scenery obviously did me good.

Day 57

With great flourish, Clark presented us with a birthday list the other day, as he has for several years now. Seven items were on the list, one of which is a PSP (I had to ask Madeline what that stands for; it's PlayStation Portable) and four others that somehow relate to a PSP. Since we don't own a PSP and have no plans to buy one, even for said adored firstborn, we had to buy gifts today the old fashioned way: We relied on what we know about him and his interests. It's harder and riskier than working from a list, but I'm grateful we were forced into it. I'd forgotten how much pleasure there is in choosing gifts for him that way. I can't wait to see his face light up with surprise and delight, if we've chosen well. We're holding onto the receipts, though. Our confidence that we know our child is wavering as he becomes his own man.

Days 54, 55, and 56

On Thursday, Brad signed up more publishers for his new business. I'm grateful for the positive response, but even more than that, I'm grateful he loves his work. Everyone should be so lucky.

I'm to the part in the Mary Margaret Halloween book (my current work-in-progress) where I really need to know what she's going to be for Halloween. Even though I've been thinking about this for weeks and even though Wednesday was Halloween and I saw a lot of Halloween costumes, I hadn't come up with one that was right for Mary Margaret. But on Friday, it came to me. I laughed out loud because it was so perfect. Of course MM would pick it! I can't tell you what it is. She wouldn't want me to ruin her surprise

Finally on Saturday, in what was a nail biter even for this nail biter, University of Michigan (my alma mater) prevailed over MSU in football. I'm grateful the Wolverines pulled themselves together so I can keep wearing my favorite sweatshirt with pride. See, Brad? I do care. :-)