Hollywood has indoctrinated women into believing we are failures at life if we have no one to kiss under the mistletoe or at midnight on New Year's Eve. We know it isn't so and yet so many of us buy into that package after all.
And here I am happily married, been together more than six years and I have no one to kiss at midnight, at least no one not happily covered in drool. Maybe some of you have dates like mine? Now granted, mine is not drooling out of a lack of sophistication as much as a lack of teeth, but still not quite the kisses I would be looking forward to if Chad were home.
We had a few neighbors over for treats and drinks. We planned to play xbox and ended up talking all night and eating way too much. The baby took a few long naps in the evening so was up at midnight and very surprised at all the horns blowing and such.
She looked at me a few times, like WHAT is the meaning of all this NOISE? But didn't cry or fuss. She happily chewed on a horn and danced with Aunt Meg. We had a nice night. It ended with puke, hers. Not sure if she had too much to eat or if something upset her tummy, but my night ended with baby vomit covering my entire chest, dripping down onto my jeans. Double yuck!!
That pretty much turned my stomach and sent me to bed as soon as we had her cleaned up, in fresh jammies, and I rocked her to sleep. I couldn't do much except head to bed. I did get an email from my sweetheart that he must have sent just about midnight, saying Happy New Year! At least he was thinking of me while I was thinking of him, not quite an in person kiss, but if it is all I can get, then I will take it.
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