Happy New Year!

I hope you all had a wonderful and relaxing one! I had what was probably one of my best New Years ever. As two three-plus-pound babies kick and squirm in my increasingly distended belly, I'd like to think that it was an omen.

So, what did I do? Well, Ty and I brought our little feline friend back to her parents, who promptly made us a delicious seafood gumbo and tolerated my shoeless lollygagging on their sofa and their bed, stopping only to talk, stir, learn about cloudberries, and witness the creation of a golden, glorious roux. As we had discussed, we left after the great meal, when my energy crashed, and were home before ten, and before all the drunken amateurs crowded up the streets and barfed on us.

I loved it. I love that we have friends with whom I can have a sweatpants-clad New Year's Eve, friends who possibly get even more excited about cooking than we do. I love that my husband doesn't care about getting all dressed up and going out when I'm tired and pregnant--and, in fact, would rather sit on our couch with me in our pajamas as the clock strikes twelve. Mostly, I loved ringing in the New Year simply by being, by sitting there and patting my belly and feeling my babies kick and hearing my husband breathe. Now, when I'm interrupted four five times while writing three not-very-good-or-witty-but-at-least-I'm-writing-again paragraphs in ten minutes while attempting to make myself a hearty, nutritious breakfast, I have that stillness to hold onto. Those times of stillness may be few and far between, but they will come again. And those of us that are happy during those times are truly blessed.