My husband and I stood in the drugstore aisle (me nine months pregnant), surrounded by premature Christmas decorations, contemplating the most humane way to commit murder. “Billy,” I screamed just fifteen minutes prior, “There's a mouse in the nursery!” Visibly relieved to learn the source of my upset did not necessitate him personally delivering his first child, he lovingly reassured me “Don’t worry, it’s just a field mouse; all we need to do is set a trap.”
January 2010 is here, Christmas 2009 is in the rear view mirror, and I am engaging in the traditional New Year's celebration of paying bills. Although we did not suffer the economic pains of many Americans this year, we nevertheless committed ourselves to reigning in expenses. To be honest, we have the same conversation every November...only to cave by December 25th. Much though I would like to brag and say this year we held firm and succeeded, the truth is we were worse.
New Years always invites us to consider what we can become this year that we were not previously. (Thinner, smarter, cured of empty nest syndrome, etc.) So, having quarantined myself at home today with a head cold, I decided to make good on a long promised threat to turn my college age daughter Ari’s room into an office. My younger daughter, who will also move into a college dorm next year, is responding by playing her music extra loud as if to remind me, “I’m still here MOM!!!....”