Out With A Whisper

Scott called from the ED a few moments ago, asking if there was anything I need him to bring home tonight. My answer was a simple "Nope," but in my head I was thinking, "Why?" I'd completely forgotten in is New Year's Eve.

The oldest seven kiddos are already in bed and Elias is enjoying his Baby Einstein Time behind me (weeps for everything else anyway, so why not?) I've honestly never been much into the New Year's thing anyway, but there is something little alarming about forgetting entirely, isn't there? Or am just comfortable enough in my own skin to not even pretend to care anymore?

I love New Year's Day -- traditional Kraut and Pork meal, games, laughter, family. But the whole staying up until midnight just to watch the clock move has never really been a big deal. I do love First Night Annapolis, but I haven't been to that since I was pregnant with Tucker and I was so tired for the next few days that I questioned my sanity for even going at all. (Although, the Shakespeare Players that night were so great!) Nope, I'm more of a go to sleep normal and wake up the next morning normal kind of gal.

On Facebook, everyone was posting their well-wishes and excitement over parties. I just can't get into it. Perhaps if Scott were a bigger New Year's guy it would be different. But, let's face it - he's usually working New Year's Eve, so we almost never spend it together. In fact, the last First Night Annapolis I went to, I took Shelby while Dawson and Isabelle stayed with my folks and Scott was working. It's just not our thing.

So, while everyone else is ringing in the new year with shouts of joy and sips of champagne, I'll be curled up under my electric blanket, fast asleep.