To wear green or not that is the question.

Ah St. Patty's day.

A day to drink, believe in leprechauns, and wear green. A day when you claim your Irish even when your not. Because that's what the cool kids do. And while green is in fact my favorite color, I did not by any means of form wear one thing that was green. Unless of course you consider my socks.

Now some may consider this to be unspirited. Perhaps I am. But the way I see it, I am not exactly Irish. Sure I have the slight bit in me that everyone claims they do. My socks could probably cover it. So if I am no Irish, why should I celebrate a holiday that I don't even understand?

I mean truly, what exactly are we celebrating, I guarantee you there will be celebrating the praying to the porcelain gods, enough to actually believe there are such things as leprechauns and pots of golds at the end of every rainbow. But beyond that, what are we celebrating.

St. Patrick?

Does any average American even know who he is? Even after looking him up, I didn't really understand who he was. Besides some important monarch in ireland back centuries ago.

So maybe because of this, I didn't exactly feel the need to wear green. I admit it helped the fact that I own one shirt appropriate enough for work attire, and I just happened to wear it yesterday. A total duh moment on my part I have to say. Still even so, I doubt I would have rushed right out to buy something in the beautiful shade of green because I am not Irish, I shouldn't have to feel as though I am forced to partake in the spirit of the fabricated holiday.

Because I don't think I need an excuse to wear green. Do I exactly need a reason? Shouldn't I be able to wear green whenever I want, and not just on a day that is more important in another country?

Or does the fact that it is St. Pattys day, give me more the reason to wear the color for fear of getting pinched by random strangers?

The Never Ending Question.

It's a rule of thumb. When you start dating, they ask you when you are going to get married. When you get married, they ask you when your going to start a family. And once you start a family? They want to know when you are going to have another.

Its the never ending, forever asking question.

And now that Logan is just over a year, it seems the question is getting asked more often. It doesn't seem to matter that I have told people that yes we want another. It doesn't seem to matter that we say, if all goes as planned another two years from now. It doesn't even matter that I tell them unlike most we want a bit of an age gap. And no I am not talking twelve years either.

Because what people here, is what they want to hear. They hear that we want another one and run with it. They assume that because want another one we want another one like yesterday.

Its not just about one person, but it seems to be everyone. From the coworker you never talk to, to your parents, your friends and the most recent, your sister. Who keeps mentioning that Logan needs a playdate.

Fine, he needs one. I get it. But isn't that what cousins are for? At the moment I am perfectly content with letting him get along with all four of his cousins.

Totally content with it.

I know this isn't just an exclusive thing for Andy and myself. I know that there are thousands of couples who deal with the same pressures as we face. And heaven forbid any of them for wanting just one kid. For being happy with just one kid.

Because in this sort of world, that just doesn't seem to be option.
And whether you like it or not. Someone always has a plan for you.

And a lot of ways, you seem to have no say.

Alex the Gr8

Alex Ovechkin.

The name is God among the DC hockey world. Just as much as Sydney Crosby is to Pittsburgh. He is the face of the team, role model to many and a spokesperson for others. He also happens to be one of the best hockey players in the league, even the World at the moment. While I am not a Crosby fan, I will say he is probably number 2. Of course everyone has their own opinion on who number one is and who number two. But that's beyond the point. And not the meaning of this post.

So of course being the player he is, when Ovie does something that pisses anyone off, you can pretty much guarantee to be hearing from the league on it. Case in point yesterday afternoons game against the Blackhawks. When he boarded someone into the wall. From where I sat, on my mothers couch it didn't look like it was intentional and it didn't look like he was out to get anyway. It looked like it was a case of bad timing. Campbell was in the wrong space at the wrong time. Ovie just happened to be right behind him. After a moment Campbell got up and walked off the ice. Ovie was sent to the box, only to be given a game misconduct shortly after. A call that would eject him from the game.

And soon it was the buzz, was it the right call? If you ask a Pittsburgh fan: yes. If you asked a Cap fan: No. Media seemed fifty/fifty on whether or not it should have been a game misconduct or not. Most however seemed to say that it wasn't.

Was it a hard hit? Yes. Did it deserve a penalty? Yes. But lets not forget who you are talking about Ovie, who is 6'2 and 223. What were you expecting? The guy to be as graceful out there as a ballerina? I don't expect anyone that big to be as graceful as I think the league wants them to be.

Ovie walked off the ice, and headed back to the locker room where he spoke to the media and cleaned up. He knew that the verdict wouldn't come til this afternoon.

And so we all held our breath as we waited for the verdict. If there was one.
The result: a two game suspension. Which isn't so great but I suppose it could have been a lot worse if you ask others.

Yes I realize I am a cap fan, which means I am going to say that I wish he would have gotten off. I will say this, I just want to see some consistency. If Campbell had been hit by Laich, or Steckel or Crosby even I doubt either would be punished. And I don't think Chicago would be pushing for the suspension as they did.

I was told that Crosby is the golden boy of the league. And in every story there has to be an equal power of good and bad.

Unforunanetly for Ovie. He just happens to be the latter of the two.

Without our son.

With mom still out of commission we once again dropped Logan off at the house this evening where he will stay for the next several days. Once again the house is quiet, his bed is empty and my husband and I are childless...

At least for the next few days.

I know that we should get things done. Clean, do projects that we have been holding off. Do homework that has been put off for some time now. Things that we always say we will get to but lets face it with a thirteen month old, things always get put on hold.

But part of me is hoping that perhaps we can use this time to try and reconnect. To pay attention to being a husband and wife again. To do that again and not worry about things like a one year old in the middle of the night. To sit there and talk, maybe we need to talk, really talk about things that we feel. things that are going on.

Because we need to.

Of course what do I think will actually happen. None of this. We will probably end up coming home every night, sitting in front of the television or computer. Not saying to much to each other. Eat in silence. Watch a hockey game and then head off to bed.

Because while we need to do these things. While I am hoping for these things. In the long run, that is our reality.

The way it was

My mom fell and sprained her rotater cuff last week. Putting her out of commission from work for a couple of weeks. She also happens to be our daycare provider. Of course with her injury, and time off, Andy and I had to figure out what to do.

On a normal day, she would come by and pick him up early in the morning, and drop him off on her way home. But seeing as though she wasn't going to be driving for awhile that option, really wasn't there.

Another option was presented, for the week my parents and younger sister would keep him at the house eliminating the need for putting extra miles and extra time onto our commute. Not to mention between Andys hockey schedule, and my school schedule, we didn't exactly have a whole lot of extra time to begin with.

We were a bit hesitant at first. A week without our lil one, while may be nice would be hard. But after some thought, we knew that it probably wasn't only the best option it was the only option. Especially considering neither of us really wanted nor had the ability to just drop everything for the week to take care of him.

As much as we may want to.

So I dropped him off on Monday giving him a precious little kiss goodbye.

And it is now Friday. For the past four nights we have been baby free. We have been able to eat when we wanted, go shopping when we wanted to again. Seen people we haven't seen in awhile. Done things we haven't in awhile.

All the while, my sister and mom have been taking care of my one year old son.

Should I be ashamed to say, to admit that I have in some enjoyed it. That I miss these days? Days when I didn't have to worry about a kid. Or that my life would no longer be my own. The days when I could sleep in past nine and not feel guilty for doing so? Or waking next to my husband and just laying there.

Now it is always one of us that gets up to attend to the little guys needs. Most of the time, one of goes to bed alone, and one wakes up alone.

Don't get me wrong. I love my son. I miss my son. I miss him terribly. But as I looked over at my husband, I realized that this week has virtually been drama free that I don't feel like we are judging what each other does. I miss the freedom of certain things. Going pee when I need to and not having to worry that lil man is tearing through my underwear drawer. I miss my husband. Who made me feel desirable and pretty back then. Now there are times when I even turn him on any more. Or if my post baby body, and new name 'mom' have somehow made me gone from totally desirable to totally untouchable.

Sometimes I can't remember when he paid me a compliment last. Come to think of it, I can't remember when I paid him one either.I am not so dumb to know that this goes both ways.

I miss movies, and dates and dinners with just the two of us. And cuddling. Yes I miss it all.

I am not by any means saying I wouldn't trade what I have because little man has become my life these days. And as much as I may think, in all honesty I can't imagine life without him.

Still from time to time.

I miss the way it was.

Obsessed.

When does one go from being a fan, to being an uber, obsessed over the top fan? I ask this because as my husband and I made our way into work this morning our main topic was planning out next years vacation. Yes, I am talking about next year, as in summer of 2011. As in 15 months from now.

Of course, to Andy and myself this has become pretty routine. After all we have been DVC members for just over three years ago. Back then, we laughed at people who said they planned that far out. Thought they were nuts that they knew when, where and all because come on, admit it how many of us plan for next week let alone the following summer.

And when we signed up for the DVC neither of us thought we would ever be one of them.

And yet, three years later. We are exactly. Those people.

We sit down most of the time fresh off the most recent trip. We pull out our big planning DVC book. We calculate, we map out. We do everything that needs to be done. Knowing full well that what we are planning isn't going to be for next week, next month or even within the next twelve for the most part.

We are those people, who sit there and talk about Disney, who know which restaurants to eat at at which times. What rides are no goes, we know where everything is with our eyes closed. We are those people that swear Disney is by far the best place, most fun you'll ever have on a vacation. And no we wouldn't trade it, and no we won't go anywhere for the most part, except for the occasional trip to the beach-which thanks to the DVC- is a part of the World...

Yes, we are those people. Where being just an average fan, doesn't merely seem good enough anymore. And when obsessed seems to be exactly right.

First buds.

It happens about this time, every year. Give a day, a week or two of course. It's the first day when you can roll down your windows. When the sun is actually shinning, and warm enough that you can feel it through the window. The kind of day, when you know that the long winter months have finally given way to the approaching spring.

The kind of day, like yesterday.

Now I realize for some, this day doesn't mean anything. After all, its just another day. Especially considering it was a Monday. Definitely. because it was a Monday. But to me, this was a turning point. The point when I know flip flops are soon coming. Days of freezing my ass off while I wait for the companys van will soon be a distant memory. The days will get longer, and nights will get shorter.

I live for this sort of turning point.

And as I do at this time every year. On the first day that I can. I do my ritual. Because it wouldn't be the first day of warm weather without it. I slide into my car, a black protege for now. I close my eyes, believing for a moment that it is not just a little Civic wanna be, but rather a mighty sports car. Believing that I am somewhere on the coast, Florida to be exact. I turn up my volume and blast Kenny Chesney, who is the definition of summer. I sit through traffic and actually smile at others who like myself are stuck. Its one of the few days where I don't mind sitting in traffic. In fact I crave it. I welcome it. I purposely go out of my way to find the closest 7-11, which thankfully isn't to far away from my house. And there I rush to the back of the store, and pick up what is my first Slurpee of the season.

I smile as I get back into my car, once again rolling down my 'sports car' windows. I blast my music.

I close my eyes and lean my head back against the rest. And as I sip on that Slurpee, life my friends is good...

Even in my Civic wannabe...

Healthy boy, thankful heart

I came across this twitter the other day, supporting a family as their two year old daughter fights stage four brain cancer. And as I read the story of Layla Grace my own heart broke.

Because as I read I thought about Logan, sleeping upstairs probably snoring away, his own little heart healthy as can be. I thought about what it would do to me, to find out something was wrong to have to go through the pain this family, and others that are dealing with the same sort of situation deal with. And it made me want to wake him. To run up the stairs and just hold him. It didn't seem fair that he is healthy and active and yet some never get to have that feeling and never get to experience.

Some get robbed of the chance.

It made me that much thankful that I have a healthy little boy, that for now my life is perfect, my child is perfect and I thank the lord that I am not fighting the nasty sicknesses that some of these kids deal with.

And then I felt ashamed, because here I am thanking the lords, when I should be doing something about it. Shouldn't I? I can't do much and what could I do? But it just made me feel guilty that I had a healthy boy and they didn't. Because it could be me. Next year, two years down the road. Who knows.

I sit here, days after I first found the little girls story. Currently she is alive, barely. But she is hanging on. And these are the ones that deserve metals. For their strength the determination. For their will to stay alive. The children and their parents who stand by and watch, feeling helpless feeling emotions I can't even begin to explain or know.

They are the true champions of the day.
And even when it seems as though they don't have it them.
Some how they manage to fight.

Yes, I am thankful for my healthy logan, and hope that I will never have to watch my child go through such pain...

Fingers crossed.

I am not a winter person. By now, I would like to think you would know this. After all, I have only been complaining about the amount of snow, the bitter cold and the shortened days for awhile now. So its safe to say, and right to assume that I am not a big fan of the winter sports, other than hockey.

That is of course, written off, and ignored every four years. When the winter olympic games come to what ever city decides to host. Because no matter how much I am not a fan of winter, and no matter how much I may not know about most the winter sports. There is just something about them, that draws me in. More likes suck me in to be honest. For the two/three weeks that it is on, I pretty much eat sleep and breath whatever sport is on.

And its usually not the usual that fascinates me. But the curling, the bobsledding. The other stuff that I usually don't see on a daily basis.

Maybe its because for those precious weeks, the quiet moments, it is not US vs. Canada. It is not us vs. them. But its the world coming together. Its the world sharing moments, stories that touch us all. Whether your from the US or from Germany. Whether you are white or black. You may be playing for your country, but in those moments you seem to be playing for the world.

I will admit there have been several moments, when I find I am not rooting for my home country. And I know I should. But there are times, when I find a story, like the skier whos brother has CP, from Canada, and while I should have been rooting for USA. At that moment.

We were all Canadian.

So Why Always Disney?

Everyone has there go to places. You know the place I am talking about. The place that you go to when you are down, when you can't find your way out. The one place where no matter what is going, it makes you happy. For some like my in laws, its the peaceful calm of the West Virginia mountains. For others, its the beach. And while I do love a good day on the beach, my happy place. Is Disney.

So why Disney you may ask.

Well why not? I mean seriously, where else on earth can you completely escape from the everyday. Where acting like you are five again is not only acceptable but the norm. Where else can I go, that I don't have to worry about my allergies because for the entire time I am there I get a chief that will cook for me.

If you can't think of it, its because well most places none of these exists. Unless of course you are Disney.

And because, while I love hockey. It is pretty much what we eat, sleep and breath here. It is our breadwinner. And because of this, there is no escape. No rest from it. Not even during the Olympics, which was supposed to be a two and a half week break from the beloved sport. Turns out, it seems it has only fueled it even more.

No, For us, there is no off season.

So our only place to go to escape this? Just happens to be the happiest place on earth.

So why Disney?

Well why not?

How to pack

So how do we pack?

This may seem like a strange question, coming from a veteran of Disney travel such as myself. But, this time, we aren't just packing for the hubby and myself. This go around, we are also packing for Logan, our one year old son.

When we first started talking about packing about two weeks ago, Andy and I really didn't think to much about it. I mean how hard could packing really be? After all we do it all the time. Because of this we took our time, we procrastinated not really worrying about it at all.

Until last night. When we realized we had less than 48 hours before we would be hitting the road. And the only thing we had packed was about four feet of snow outside our Northern Virginia home. So like two crazy people we began shuffling through the laundry, through drawers, scrambling for the outfits that would make his vacation debut just right.

And soon we realized, it wasn't the clothes that was the issue. No, it was actually the small things. The bottles, the baby food. The diapers and the toys for the car ride down. Its all the essential things, that until you start packing you considered non essential.

Its the medicines that you have never used before but now you should bring because this will probably be the week he decides to get sick.

Of course, the most important thing to pack is the little one. After all, isn't he the reason we need the stuff anyway?

Logan at 1

After a week of trying, we finally got to celebrating Logan's birthday, though notified as it was, I was glad to see that we actually ate the cake we bought instead of it sitting in the refrigerator as I had feared.





The smaller crowd consisted of Andy, and Logan and myself. Along with my parents, and sister Hillary and her son Randin. Gathering around, we sang him happy birthday before letting Ran-Ran help with the blowing of the candle.



He didn't quite know what to think of it in the beginning, but soon caught on really quick. And before any of us knew it, the entire kitchen looked like it had been in the midst of a war zone. With the cake winning against his chubby little hands.








But it didn't matter. My parents were happy to lend us their floor as they watched and cheered for our little Logan.







In the end, the cake was distroyed but he had one very happy one year old. And two very happy parents who were thrilled to finally celebrate their first childs birthday.







So Happy Birthday Logan, and here's to many more to come!

Round 2

Dear Snow Gods.

I get it. For years you heard the DC area bitch moan and complain about the lack of white fluffy cold stuff that for so long has eluded us. You sat back and waited listening to our pleas, the children's cries for snow days and the adults wishes that it would snow enough that they to could possibly get some time off. Yes, you waited with patience until just the right time. And you somehow managed to do this, while laughing at us. Knowing full well what you had in store for us.

Well ha ha. You have had your laugh. You have had your fun. Taking it well beyond a five minute joke to a point where it is so not funny anymore. In fact it is rather, unbelievably sad. I mean yes, most of the city wanted snow. But enough is enough. A third major snowstorm in less than two months?

Seriously?

Now I understand. The first was cool. Fun even. Who doesn't love a good two feet of snow the week before Christmas? A few weeks after that, a few inches here and there. Ok I can, we can handle that. But this three feet of snow one weekend and then hey for fun I will throw in another near foot three days later? You have taken it way to far my friend. Way to far.

Which is why, I am making once again another plea. Perhaps I am the only one who will plea, and whom is saying they are tired of the snow. But come on, give me a freaking break. I can not take this to much longer. I am tired of trying to figure out how I am going to get to work. If I am going to get to work. I am tired of hearing the same snowstorm watch twenty/four seven, I really don't think I need to know that we gained another inch within a half hour. Or the fact that our local reporter, who has been out there for the past twelve hours has run out of hot chocolate, and he prefers it with marshmallows. I don't need to know that the last loaf of break has been bought.

Another words. Give me a freaking break. Enough is enough. Now move on, pack your bags and go pick on someone your own size once more.

Sincerely yours.

Blizzard of 10'

We are currently in the midst of the second blizzard of the winter. The first was back in December, where it dumped 24 inches in the Centreville area. This go around, it is predicted to be dumping a good 30 inches.

Now I know its winter, and I know several people, including most in my family that are loving it. And while I do enjoy a good snow storm every now and then, I have to say I am done with winter. I don't quite remember a winter that has seemed to slam us with one storm after another. As it is, this is the second weekend in a row that we have had significant amount of snow. Most of the four-six inches we got last weekend remains on the ground as we speak.

So yes I am done with it all. And considering we are preparing to head down to our home away from home in Disney next weekend I must admit I am looking forward to the warmer temps. Sure maybe it won't be the hundred degrees like it often is when we are down there in August. I am assured there will be snow in the forecast for the entire week that we have reserved.

Bring it on. Bring it on.

1st birthday.

I am now a mom of a toddler. Gone is the saying, I have a six month old, or an eight month old I can join the many of others who have toddlers. Now you may be asking why is this so important. And I will answer this. Because I no longer have a baby. Sure you can argue Logan, no matter how old he may be will forever be my baby in some sense of form. But in a lot of ways, in terms of age and all. I nolonger have that baby.

Instead. I have a kid. A little one. A munchkin.
The thought is believe it or not, kind of scary to think about.

Because he will only grow from here. I mean yes I knew that was going to happen. But before this, before he turned a year the milestones he had were simple, they were a smile, or the first laugh. And I cherished all of these milestones. And now its the first official steps, the first day of kindergarten-yes i realize i am getting way ahead of myself here-. things that babies don't do. but kids do. the first friends. stuff like this. the small milestones that made up our lives the first few months of existence are now a thing of the past.

Yes my friends I am now a mom of a toddler.
And a whole new chapter will begin.

Oh the fun we shall have.

This week starts a new semester at Mason. Once again I am taking two classes, a communication class and a management class. Neither should be as hard as the Financing class I had last.

Which is a good thing I assure you. If I never see another formula, or word problem I shall die a happy woman.

But this semester also has a new feeling to it. For this begins the beginning of the end. I am down to ten, thats right ten classes to go. A total of five semesters left of college. Now granted this may seem like an eternity. But in the long run it isn't. Not when I think back to the years I have spent behind desks, and computers. And things like that. Not when I think about all the times I have thought about quitting only to tell myself I can not just give up on it.

So ten. That's not a lot right. I can do this.

And I am hoping that this semester will be a better one for me. I mean yes I didn't do to terrible last semester but I need a stiller one if not for any more reason than I want one. Though I have to remind myself times have changed. I have a child now, I have other responsibilities. And while most can just simply pull all nighter's I don't quite have that luxury anymore. Nor do I have the desire to do so anymore.

So here is to hoping for a successful Spring semester.
May it be better than the last.

How does one make themselves happy?

I have not been happy lately. I would like to deny this, but the truth is, I haven't. I could say its this, and I could say its that. But the truth is, I think its a little bit of everything. And none of it makes sense. Or perhaps it does and I just don't want to admit it to myself.

I mean its obvious that work hasn't been making me happy. But then again, does work make any one happy. I mean do people really want to work their ass of for eight hours a day for their entire life. Even those that say they absolutely love their jobs, that they have their dream jobs surely have doubts and moments of pure frustration and dislike from time to time. So yes. I can't say I am the only one that would feel this way.

Still perhaps this feeling, the unsettling not wanting to go in at all is telling me something. Maybe I need to reevaluate certain things. Whether it is my position, or my employer itself. Or the career path. Maybe its telling me something. Just how to figure it out is something totally different. I mean its not like I can wake up and say I do believe I am going to be a pilot today. And it isn't as though I can just be anything without school, and work involved.

Which leads me to school...

I have been on a hiatus from school. Which starts back up tomorrow. Still I can't deny that I just want to be done with the entire thing. I have a total of ten classes left before I graduate. With the pace I am going that is five semesters counting this one. Meaning after this, I have eight classes, and four semesters. Not bad considering what I started with all those months/years ago. And I have to remind myself of this every now and then. I am just so close that I can taste it, I can feel it.

Just keep chipping away, just keep plugging away.

So what's this lead to then?

Is my unhappiness coming from my marriage/family? No, I will not say family. I love Logan with all my heart. I can't think of life without him. I marvel at the fact I got along this far in life without him as it is. So then, does that leave Andy and I? Admitidly it hasn't been the easiest of relationships lately. The lack of intimacy is really beginning to get to me. I don't know if its just that we are to busy, or that we just don't have it any more. It seems as though he just isn't interested in it anymore. Just the other day I was 'feeling' him up and he looked at me and asked.

'What the hell are you doing?'

And I wanted to yell at him, to tell him what do you think I was doing?

Now I realize Logan was up, and alert but come on, take that as a sign buddy. Something.

And while he may not see it, or may not think it, but he does get very fiesty, very anzy very fast. So much short that he gets short with me, and makes me feel like I am not doing the job like a mother should be doing.

I have spoken to him of this. I have had several different talks with him. In hopes that something will improve. As recent as last night. And he just says that he doesn't know where I am coming from and to let him know what he needs to do. And that I should make myself happy.

And that he hopes I make myself happy.

But what if I don't know how myself?

A month shy.

We are now a month away from our winter getaway. Now usually we make our way down to a very hot, very sunny very packed DisneyWorld, this time around however things will be expectidly different. The crowds, while may be there, will not be anywhere near what they are like in July/August. And instead of the 90 degree whether, we are looking at a cool 65 average. Of course, coming from the DC area where we are currently sitting at 20 degrees, I would 65 sounds pretty nice about right now.

This is the first time we will have a little one in toe. Bringing a whole new perspective of the parks. One we are not only looking forward to but excited. While we have seen pretty much everything that Disney has to offer to see it through a childs eyes will be something that is a first. To see Logan with the characters, the rides. the lights. I have not gone as far as knowing the first ride he will be on. I have not gone as far as planning every minute of every day for the entire trip. Mainly because unlike most of the times, when we can go from sun up to sun down, this time we are kids schedule. And while I want to make this a memorable first trip. The truth is, he will be just over a year old. And how much is he actually going to remember. Mom and dad. Of course we will but Logan on the other hand. Doubtful

Still I can't hide the fact that I am just a little to excited at the thought of that first picture of my first son, and Mickey.

Just about a week into the New Year and changes have already begun. Mainly in the form of Logan who is just about three weeks shy of a year old. Over new Years he began pulling himself up by himself. In the short week that it started, he has now moved on to pulling himself up on the stairs, and is finally getting the hang of his knees under him which gives me hope that he may actually crawl on all fours after all. Believe me I think Andy and I were beginning to believe the army crawl was going to be a lasting thing.

And the new year brings the second half of the hockey season. And while we are halfway through, I don't expect it to be an easy quick end. In fact I have already been given fair warning that my widowhood may last all the way til the end of June. Leaving us the month of July to focus on us as a family with no hockey, no school to distract us.

Not an easy thought but we must do what we must do.

Just as Logan's motor skills are improving. His verbal skills are coming right along. His two front teeth broke through on Christmas. A fact I find hilarious since I wrote to 'Santa' asking for them to come in. And loo and behold they do. Last count he had a total of six all together. And he seems to be a petty happy baby considering. He spends most of his days babbling on to people holding lavish conversations in which only he knows what they are discussing. But from an observer, it doesn't seem like to many people mind. Related or not.

Now the only question that will remain is this. Will he become his aunt, who has never met a stranger. Or more like his mother. A quiet shy observer.

Time will only tell.

So welcome to 2010.

And I have a feeling that this year is going to be a big year for me. Whether it be good or bad has obviously yet to be seen. I turn thirty this year. Thirty. I have never thought as thirty being old. I still don't. But there is something about it, that makes one stop and reflect. A oh my god...

And there is this other feeling. An almost unsettling feeling as though something else will go on by the end of the year. What that is, I don't know. Job perhaps. Or something. I just don't know but it is dif. there in the background. And it makes me uneasy really.

But whatever it may be, good and bad. It will be.
And I will face it.