Be careful what you wish for...
The original plan was that Paul and Owen were going to go to Virginia for New Year's Eve. Paul would party it up with his brother and our sister-in-law and Owen would hang out with his cousin and grandparents.
I, meanwhile, would NOT have to lug all of Joel's baby junk back to Virginia. I would put him down to sleep in his own crib. Then, I would ring in the new year with a glass of wine, maybe Andersen Cooper and Kathy Griffin on CNN.
I know, you're jealous.
Really, though, the best gift to myself this year would be some time alone, to read, putter, do whatever it is I need to do.
However...there was the other side of me that wanted to go. After all, I like my brother-in-law and sister-in-law. There's bound to be some good conversation, decent wine, and a spirited competition on the Wii Fit.
Also, Paul and I had our first "real date" on New Year's Eve, in 1996. It's our original anniversary. It's not celebrated, except that I'll comment, something like "Hey! Remember that night at the Cactus Moon? That's when I knew I would marry you!" (FYI--The Cactus Moon is a terrible, terrible country bar in Tucson, AZ, known for its mechanical bull, the girls holding test-tube shots in their cleavage, and the continuous playing of the timeless classic, "Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy.")
Total Disclosure: In reality, the song was more likely, "Boot Scoot Boogie," but "Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy" is funner to type.
So, we've never spent New Year's apart since then. Except this year.
Except that fate has intervened. Paul came home from work early today with a terrible stomach bug. He's been in bed all day, weakly sipping Gatorade and feeling miserable.
So....yay? We get to spend this holiday together. Paul will be in bed, wishing to die. Me? I'll probably be on the couch, watching Andersen Cooper and Kathy Griffin.
Happy New Year, everybody!