New Year

Well, it came.

And on Monday, as I was preparing New Year's dinner for my people, I felt content.

(Can I tell you how much I heart traditions?)

I was hanging balloons with fishing line from the kitchen ceiling.

It smelled like a turkey roasting in my kitchen -- almost.

(I was making chicken in a crockpot so it would fall apart.)

I scattered confetti and set out the china and hung gold stars.

I left a homemade caramel and a note on each of their plates.

The house smelled good, there was a fire in the fireplace, and it was cozy.

(My happy place, really.)

The kids got home from being with their dad, and once I had everything ready, we gathered around the table.

We turned the lights way down low and drank bubbly.

The menu?

Fall apart chicken.

Salad with a lemon vinaigrette.  

Roasted carrots.

Scratch mashed potatoes and gravy.

And, what the kids used to call "Christmas juice": 7UP with cran-raspberry juice.

I shared a sentiment from Milton, but thought later that I should have just kept it simple.

(Note to self.)
I gave them a challenge for the new year.

And maybe the highlight was when we talked about what we are grateful for.

 Mia said she was grateful for her bed.

Benj mentioned comic books and legos.

Isaiah said audio books.  And then, later, a furnace.

And this gal?

Chocolate.

Of course.

(Of course she would say that.)

We made a few toasts and then lit sparklers in the snow.

And the little gal who cried last year and was scared of them?

She discovered the joy. 

And that was that.

Here we are.

New year.

Who knows what it will bring?

But, in the meantime, I haven't yet had it in me to take down the polka dots and stars and happy wishes for the new year hanging over our table.

It feels like a sort of blessing somehow; a bright, golden spot against that lovely clean world of white out there in the yard.

Blessed.