Welcome

Here's the thing...as much as I would love to love New Year's Eve...as much as I would love to have the When Harry Met Sally New Year's moment...as much as I would love to stand in the middle of Time's Square with Dick Clark {Wait, it's still Dick Clark, yes?}...in reality it's just not me. I don't ever think it has been. In fact I've always felt a little sorry for the year leaving us. It all just feels a little sad to me. Poor year...did it feel appreciated? Were 365 days really enough time to prove itself? Perhaps this is the reason why I am much more comfortable with the New Year's Day celebration. No goodbyes...no late nights...just comfortable greetings. Ah yes...much more my style. To honour the day...the new day...the first day, we invited our neighbours to feast upon Ham and Black Eyed Peas. Because where I am from...and according to our guests, only where I am from...this is the traditional January 1st meal representing good luck and fortune.
So with gratitude to 2009, we bid farewell. And with bubbling anticipation, we raise our sparkling apple juice real-live-champagne-glasses...carefully...ever so carefully...to all the loveliness that awaits.
Welcome Two Thousand and Ten.
xo

What Are You Doing New Year's Eve?

Me: Hugh. Do you have any New Year's resolutions? You know...like goals. For instance, I am going with the same goal as last year. My resolution is to make all the beds every morning.
Hugh: Sure I do. My New Year's resssolsooluti...uh, goal, is to sled down really, REALLY fast on the big hill with my eyes closed.
Me: But you already did that...today.
Hugh: I know. Aren't I so brave?
We're back at it again...
Happy New Year friends.
Our daily updates have resumed...xo

3rd Sunday

5 days and counting...This will be our last update until after the Holidays as we are packing the car and heading to the cottage. Until then...
Merry Christmas!
xo

3rd Saturday in December

Handed down to Hugh a couple of months ago, I foolishly said, "Oh. We'll never need these...Hugh's a more rubber boot/sneaker kind of wearing kid." Never say, never. Behold, the shiny-black-could-be-but-aren't-leather shoes.A requirement for all Violin Christmas Recitals. And perhaps now a requirement for all outfits from here on out. I am in love.Congratulations to Hugh...the youngest member of the violin 'orchestra'...who proudly stood on the stage for pictures...and comfortably sat in Mummy's lap for the recital. We are quite certain he thought the recital was the photo shoot...because as far as he's concerned, he had a 'wonderful performance'. We couldn't agree more! Well done Hugh.
xo
xo

8 Months

Dear Arlo,
Happy 8 Months!
The past month you have endured:
One black eye {on my watch, rats!}
One accidental foot stomp on the head {by a certain somebody whose name begins and ends with the same letter...also on my watch...so unfair!}
Two ear infections
Multiple days of coughing, sneezing and a little wheezing
Swollen gums from one determined tooth that just can't seem to show its toothy face
And finally, you have endured the song, Rudolph The Red Nose Reindeer sung 19,385 times. Oh Arlo, if it were anyone else, they may have buried themselves in a cozy cocoon until unlucky number 7 month had moved on. But not you my dear, you have faced every bumpy-bruised-coughing-drippy-nose day with smiles and determination. And with that, we are watching you almost...nearly there...so very close...take your first crawling strides. It's just around the corner my dear...fingers crossed it's a cushy corner.
We love you Arlo.
Happy 8 Months!
xo

2nd Sunday in December

xo

2nd Saturday in December

Santa :: Hugh, what would you like for Christmas?
Hugh :: Oh Santa, lots and lots of things.
Me :: Perfect. Let's keep it at that...next in line.
xo