Happy 2007: may it be at least as good as 2006
January 2, 2007
I made this from the wire off of our bottles of champagne. My kids thought it was so cool. Even my 12 yr old who thinks precious little I do is cool nowadays.
I celebrated 2006 ending the same way that I rang it in a year ago. Surrounded by the people that I love the most.
The ones who drive me to the brink of insanity, and yet are the very reason I stay sane.
The ones who make me laugh, the ones who make me cry.
The ones who make me want to pull out my hair and go running and screaming naked down the road.
The subjects of 95% of the 4000 photos I took last year.
The ones who make me aspire to be a better person.
The ones who have taught me that love is not a feeling but rather an action I chose every day.
As midnight approached we all stood holding our glasses of champagne, or mock champagne as the case may be, and counted down from 30 out loud. We had just finished playing a game of charades in a way that only a family with a competetive streak can. There were a few times that I thought I should get up and get my camera, to preserve the moment for posterity. But I never wanted to step away from the action, from being a part of the moment.
I didn’t want to make that shift from participant to observer that so often happens when you are trying to document things. And so I have no photos from our night of charades.
But I don’t think I will ever forget how my 6yr old acted out Santa Claus by drawing an imaginary hat and belt on himself. Or the surprise we all felt at how good this child was at playing charades. Or how my 10yr old began pantomiming building a fire and I screamed “Chestnuts roasting on an open fire!” Which was a really incredible guess given the absence of any other clues. And how we all high fived each other and screamed.
We clincked our glasses together at midnight and wished each other a happy new year. A year like the one that had just passed.
The next night we sat around the table eating. My 6 yr old said something mean to my 10 yr old, and despite my warnings they would not stop bickering. My two most difficult children enaged in a battle where neither of them would let it go. Letting go is not their style and when the two of them chosde to engage in a battle of wills, it can never end well. In keeping with his lack of impulse control, my 10 yr old picked up his slice of pizza and whipped it across the table at his brother. It missed him, grazed my hair, and splattered on the wall behind me.
And as my son stomped up the stairs to his room, I had to laugh. It was shaping up to be a year exactly like the last.