It’s New Year’s Eve and the most fascinating thing that has, or is going to happen for me today was exchanging clothes from Christmas. I have no plans at all for bringing in the new year, except to hang out with my two girls and probably go to bed before midnight. Pat has a gig tonight, so he’ll bring in the new year with some friends.
Am I jealous? Nah. I’m too tired and pregnant to be jealous.
Pregnancy isn’t really an excuse to stay home on New Year’s Eve, though. Eleven years ago today I was 7 months pregnant with Savannah, and Pat had a gig at the Velvet E here in town. I put on my finest maternity wear and headed out into the cold, drunk night with him. I sat at a table in the corner with my water or soda, I can’t remember which, and watched everyone dancing around and falling on each other. It’s pretty amusing, and sometimes sad, to be the sober one in a club full of drunks.
Talk about exhausted! It was 3 in the morning before we got out of there. I was tempted to curl up on the table and get in a few shut eyes before Pat said he was ready to go. I was glad to be there with him, though. I’ve always hated to bring in the new year alone.
But I won’t be alone tonight. I’ll put Sarah to sleep around 8 and curl up with Savannah under a blanket and watch a movie and drink hot chocolate. Then Pat will call me at midnight to wish me a happy new year and we’ll have our kiss when he gets home.
Happy new year, everyone!
And happy new year to you, honey. Here’s to another year of love, family…and a long-awaited son.
I love you.
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