Today marks our first Thanksgiving as a family, and what a day it was!

The excitement has been building all week. All the kids have been able to talk about was going to their grandmother’s house for Thanksgiving. Their big brother gave out “mini-primers” all week about what to expect.

The children went to bed last night amid excitement about what the day today would hold. When hubby and I awoke this morning, two of our three children had already dressed! We made calls to loved ones and family, including the children’s birth mother and grandmother.

Then it was off to the Big City to the North for Thanksgiving. At my mother’s home, the Thanksgiving feast is always in the form of a big lunch rather than a later dinner. So, we arrived to lunch, and true to big brother’s prognostications, their grandmother had treats for them!

I love my mother dearly, and know that she has been in love with my oldest son from the moment he was born. The sun rose and set with him, and there was an unspoken fear in the back of my mind that somehow there might be some distinction between him and the new grandchildren.

I was wrong. Really, really wrong.

She greeted all three kids with big hugs and kisses; compliments and treats. I had offered to have Thanksgiving here, knowing that the noise, mess and activity level would now be treble what it had been. Further, mom is “particular” about her home and her antiques (read “so not child-friendly”).

So, what’s the first thing that happens as we sit down? My youngest spilled his drink all over the beautifully set table! I look at mom. No big. “It happens.” Score another point for mom! The kids were completely in love with her candied yams. She did something I have never seen - not in forty-three years on this earth – after allowing seconds and even thirds, she got out spoons and let the kids eat from the bowl!

The kids loved seeing pictures of me as a baby, child, teen and on my wedding day. They also got a hoot out of the pictures of their big brother as a baby. Then, they saw pictures of themselves on that most coveted of kiddie real-estate – the refrigerator!

As we left, she gave more hugs and kisses, and pulled my hubby aside to tell him what great kids he had.

After another pit stop at my best friend’s house, we came home to part two of our Thanksgiving ritual – the leaves. Each year we cut out leaves of construction paper – different shapes and sizes, and all different Fall colors. On each leaf, each person writes their name, and one thing that they are thankful for. I write the year on the stem. Then we make a pile of the leaves and each person draws one. If it’s one they wrote, it goes back into the pile. Then, we read what the person wrote, and go to the next person in the circle. Then we make “turkey hands” out of brown construction paper with name and year.

The kids loved these new traditions – and from the things they wrote (or dictated, as in the case of my youngest!), they love us and their new life as well!

Photo credit: Marie Stroughter