I spend the day after Thanksgiving in my pjs.
And yesterday was no different.
As evident in the picture above, Layla and Zeke spent the day after Thanksgiving recovering from their Thanksgiving panic attack at having so many strangers (to them) in our house.
I'm not a Black Friday shopper at all, and I host Thanksgiving, so I take the day after just for me.
I went to bed around 8:30 p.m. on Thanksgiving and slept until 10:00 a.m. on Black Friday and then just piddled around all day in the house.
Piddling is my favorite, y'all...and I can easily get caught up in it. My ability to do nothing and enjoy it may come from the fact that I was an only child for 11 years and learned to entertain myself.
I'm not afraid of being by myself; I actually need it sometimes.
When I got up yesterday, I took the dogs out and just laughed at my backyard.
The number of kids at our house on Thanksgiving increases each year, and they may have outnumbered the adults this year.
It certainly looked that way in my backyard.
But, here's the thing.
I really did.
The irony that my backyard looked like we hosted a fraternity party did not escape me...but I laughed.
I have a peace.
A peace that I'm on the right track.
A peace that at this moment, today, I'm doing what God wants me to do.
Now, that doesn't mean that peace won't fluctuate...don't get me wrong...but for right now, there is peace.
My brother-in-law said Thanksgiving should be our Christmas. When we all come together to enjoy each other and our families without the gifts and the pressure and the noise and the chaos surrounding a holiday that has become anything but what it was intended, that is our Christmas.
So Thanksgiving is Christmas?
So what does that mean?
I have no idea.
But, I'm going to be thinking about it for quite some time.