I wake up to buzzing and give thanks for snooze buttons. No run this morning.

Once up I make myself a greek omelette and give thanks for spinach and feta cheese and their combined deliciousness.

My four-year-old shoves her little sister onto her butt and sends her screaming. I give thanks for time-outs and their effectiveness.

As I wash out the plastic containers from last night's dinner I give thanks I have a mother-in-law who likes to cook for us. (Who's spoiled? ME!)

I instant message my husband that I'm going to have to throw out his copy of Dreams from My Father. The dog peed on it. He sighs and says, "I guess we have a Republican dog?"

I love the word toddler, it's the perfect description of the stiff-legged new-walking gait of my little girl. She toddles over with my ipod against her ear "talking" into it.

"Yeega yeega yeega ba ba ba"

"Buy low! Sell high!" I tell her

She toddles off.

 My four-year-old comes over and tells me, "Mommy, when I was born a baby I had no teeth. I had no hair." I affirm that, yes, this was so.

The young one dumps her hot dog pieces all over the floor and my moocher-dog, Cleo, who is possibly the Rebuplican, eats every bite. I give thanks for dogs, even if they don't align with my politics, because they save time on cleaning floors.

Happy Thanksgiving OS- I'm grateful for all your stories.