Today I am on call. I may or may not have to leave the festivities to welcome a babe into the world.
And my children will tell me (with seriousness) not to drop the baby. My husband will kiss me and wish me fun times.
Today the 5yo will most likely beat box something inappropriate about a nose being ripped off or bodily function. His big brother will laugh so hard with his jack-o-lantern grin that he'll probably fall off the chair. It will no doubt be loud and maybe a bit confusing to guests. Those brothers won't notice because they'll be too busy in their own fun.
Today Molly will launch into a very long and detailed story; most likely about a girl or girls from other countries joining together to fix some huge problem. Despite the length making it difficult to concentrate, her voice and her heart will be loud and clear throughout.
Today I will trip, fumble and spill my way around our crowded kitchen because my littlest chef, Zeke, will be my shadow. He will definitely turner a mixer on or drop an egg on the floor as he "helps." He'll be jabbering a mile a minute, grinning ear-to-ear and reminding each dinner guest that he cooked the food.
Today there will be probably be somethings(s) taken apart or broken. At some point I will feel exasperated. There will a lot of noise, indoor racing and/or crashing, nudity and organized chaos.
And I will remember the Thanksgiving when I thanked God that He had laid out this very unclear path of adoption for our family. I will remember how my arms were just beginning to ache for my children not yet home. I will remember that I couldn't comprehend what our life would look like or how little I truly understood the meaning of grace.
And I will be thankful.