A few of my blog readers know about my so called “curse.” It began back in 1999 (turning 2000). That’s when the series of unfortunate events have occurred on New Year’s Eve---so much to make me convinced that I have a curse on me.
Highlights of such events include major sicknesses, car wreck (shout out to my best friend, Taylor), boyfriend troubles, and crying …a lot. Those were all PK (pre-kids). Once pregnancy and kids came into the picture, I had already decided I wanted nothing to do with the holiday and didn’t push myself to stay up.
You see, staying up late has never been a thrill of mine. In fact, there is nothing I’d rather do less than stay up until midnight only to have to get up early in the morning. Yep, not a fun idea to me. Even PK, I was always the one who could not stay up late at sleepovers or stay up late to go out to parties in college (though I managed). I like my sleep, and so pardon me if I skip out on this one holiday each year.
Sure, I get a tad jealous seeing statuses on Facebook of people ringing in the New Year with friends. However, I like to assume that these people either a) do not have kids or b) have kids who are either being watched by someone else for the night or have kids who sleep through the night.
This year’s event was a sick baby who needed to be held all day and a defiant four year old. Josh is working all weekend, so I’m at it alone. Although, my MIL is gracious enough to come pick up Tyler this weekend so I can focus on getting Ryan better.
So, last night I continued to ignore New Year’s Eve. And I had no problem doing so. I went to bed at 9:30 and rolled over to see the clock at midnight and hear fireworks. Don’t get me wrong. It’s not that I’m not happy for another year. It’s just that for now, I’d rather ring the new year in while sleeping :)
Or until the curse is lifted.
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