Alas, A New Year

It's been a while since I last posted. I have been so busy over the holidays. There were so many parties and other social engagements, with visits to the hair and nail salon intermingled, dinners out, wining, dining, blah blah blah. Oh. No. Wait a minute. THAT WAS IN MY DREAMS. Andy and I did manage to slip away one afternoon to see Rocky (don't laugh...it was good) and have dinner at O'Charlies (go ahead and laugh...but we had a gift card so it was free and if you say you don't love their yeast rolls you're a liar!). That was the highlight social outing of the season. The rest of time I feel like I spent whining over all the sickness in our home and seldom dining...at least on hot food that is. That's something they never tell you before you become a mom. You can kiss hot meals goodbye. Lukewarm is about as good as it gets.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining. I'm just telling it like it is. I remember the last Christmas holiday that Andy and I spent alone. It was 2002. Pre-William. Christmas Eve we went to church and then ordered take out from Ruth's Chris, brought it home, set it out on the fine china, lit the candles, opened a good bottle of red, turned on the Christmas music and marveled at how wonderful the whole scene was. Yet all we could talk about was how much we couldn't wait to have children and start our family, because that's what Christmas is all about. Fast forward to this Christmas Eve, post-William, post-Catherine and pre-Number 3. Steaks from Winn Dixie, no candles, no lovely music, and the only wine was the whine from the ornery toddler throwing tiny pieces of steak all over the floor. Then I managed to compose myself, pick up my steak from the floor and eat it before it got any colder while William, Catherine and Andy just stared at me in amazement.

I jest. Somewhat. It's not quite the Normal Rockwell scene I used to envision. But there's nothing sweeter than those little arms wrapping tightly around me, or the sweet smell of their hair as they nuzzle in for one last goodnight snuggle, the sound of William's little voice whispering "I love you too, Mama" or the contagious laughter that abounds. Ahhhh. Wouldn't trade it for a lifetime of dinners from Ruth's Chris. I'll take my cold meal anytime. That's what microwaves are for anyway.

Happy New Year!