Peeps. Blogmuffins. Youz guys (shout out, Jersey!). Momma is tired.

But I have promises to keep. To you. To me. To the blogosphere. So here I sit.

Besides, there is true gratitude to share today. I spent the day helping my older sister — a single momma for more than eight years now — move into a house she just bought by herself.

She did it.

My elder sis has gone through many of the same financial struggles that I’m now facing. Yet today, I backed up a moving truck into her driveway* and we loaded her things into her new house.

*I think it’s important here to stress that I backed up a truck from a busy street into a narrow driveway — like some kind of gifted road-warrior mammajamma.

My younger sister — a much more recent inductee into the Single Momma Sorority — was there schlepping furniture, too. Yes, three single mommas moved a houseload of furniture without a man in sight.

And might I just say that WE KICKED SOME MOTHERFUCKING ASS while doing it.

In fact, I suggested we start our own moving company: Three Bitches and a Van.

We get it done

While hauling dressers and tables and getting a long couch spectacularly stuck in a short, twisty stairway (and yes, unstuck too) we talked. We laughed. We commiserated. We planned.

We are sisters. We are family. We show up for each other when it’s time to show up. We watch each other’s kids. We cry on each other’s shoulders. We make inappropriate jokes. We tease each other relentlessly.

That’s one fine momma

And leading us all through this life, or more likely, watching carefully to ensure none of us falls off the cliff, is our momma.

She’s tired right now. She worries about us and there’s been lots to worry about lately. She’s there for us — physically and emotionally — at a level that is both impressive and scary. We worry that she’s doing too much, that we need her too much.

But my sisters and I agree: She did a good job with us. She’s the one who taught us how to show up when it’s time to show up. She’s the one who taught us how to be there for each other by being there for us.

That’s one hell of a woman, my mom.

Today’s ‘tudes

So here’s what I’m grateful for today:

My mom, for being funny and steady and true despite all of the upheaval of the last however many years. For being our example. For being our safety net. For believing in us. For caring about even the smallest details of our lives.  

For my older sister Treas, for always, always guiding me through life — driving just ahead so I always know where to go. Where would I be without her lighting the way for me?

For my younger sister Kath, for being my best accomplice in total silliness and inappropriateness and for inspiring me in ways she probably isn’t even aware of.

For the lovely little foursome that my mom, my sisters and I make up. We’re a hell of team. A team of strong women. We’ve been through so much together in the past decade — and people, some of that shit would make your jaws drop. Together we’re like a SWAT team when a crisis comes up: We mobilize, assess the situation and each fall into our roles to get things handled. Unfortunately, there’s been a little too much crisis response over the last few years. Hopefully now we can just enjoy each other’s company a little more in a non-crisis sorta way …

I’m thankful for hope. I’m thankful that Treas’s new house feels … happy. Like it’s just waiting for good things to happen there. I’m thankful that I got to paint the bedroom ceilings so that my sis, my niece and my nephew get to sleep under my contribution to the house — a little love from Aunt Trishie.  It makes me feel like I get to tuck them all in every night.

I’m thankful I got to feel like a badass while driving the moving truck today. It gave me the giggles. I’m thankful for the driver of the 18-wheeler who stopped on the highway and waved me across. “A trucker just stopped for me!” I shouted to my sister. “He recognized me as one of his own! I’m part of the tribe!”

I’m thankful to be warm and clean and ready to cozy up in my bed in a few minutes.

I’m thankful you read this. Good night, darling blogmuffins.