A year ago this week, when my youngest was born, the rain and wind buffetted the house, making our drafty old windows rattle, and the plastic over them blow up like a balloon. Since the storm started with his arrival, I looked at his lumpy little newborn self, still so sentient in that way they are when they are new, and asked him,"Did you bring us this storm?" He rolled his head toward me, and smiled in a very un-newborn way, and I got chills all through me.
I said a prayer of thanks, as I often do, for the house and the protection it gives us from the elements. Then, feeling weary from all the grown-up stuff I have to do, I said a thank you to myself, for providing warmth and safety for us.
Yesterday, Little Guy had his birthday party. The wind and rain blew outside once again, and inside there was also chaos, as a crowd of rowdy children (and a couple quiet ones) celebrated the boy's birthday. He loves his friends, and had a wonderful time. Last night, I prayed again, thanking God and myself for the warmth and safety, and I also said a thank you for this community, my friends, my kids' friends, and a house to crowd them all into.