My mom used to tell me that the way you spent New Year’s Eve was supposed to be some indicator of how you were going to spend the rest of the year. Well, if that’s the truth, let’s forecast 2012 for a minute, okay?
It will be loud and a little chaotic. It will be jam-packed full of giggles and dancing and messes and hitting and I’m sorry’s and kisses and I love you’s.
Jeremy and I thought about doing something. We even planned some stuff. All of it fell apart with a tired wife and an injured husband and two kids that hadn’t both been home with both of their parents in what had started to feel like forever. With Jeremy’s new schedule and the split shifts I work during the week, finding us all four hanging out in the living room floor is a pretty rare thing.
So, instead of going out, we’re home, in our jammies. On the menu: Pizza. On the television: Megamind. On the agenda: Not a whole lot. The truth is all of the anti-excitement that’s happening tonight is kind of what we all four needed. If Mom’s superstition is true and I will get more of these kinds of nights in the next 12 months, I could get really right with that.
At midnight, I’ll kiss my husband, just like I’ve done every year since New Year’s Eve 2000, except this year (unlike the last few) I won’t have to wake him up first. His new found nightowl-ness is definitely something to thank 2011 for. The fancy clothes and the fancy shoes and the fancy cocktails will have to wait until next year. Truth is I’m really not a huge fan of fancy shoes anyway. I’d rather wear my slippers.
Thanks for the cuddles, 2011. You’re alright in my book.