2009. The year Ash decided to go pee pee on the potty and then absolutely NOT go pee pee on the potty. We're still waiting on the full reversal. It was the year Ash convinced himself that every basement of every cathedral in Spain contained a bear cave, and insisted on all of us going tip-toe tip-toe tip-toe down the steps for a sneak peak. The first half found us steering clear of the scary ocean in Virgina Beach for the much preferred land of sand castles while the second half launched operation "keep up with Ash" as he sprinted head on into every wave that splashed along the Costa Rican shore. Ash and his BFF were introduced to all things magic in the Kingdom of Mouse while their perspiring parents kept cool in the 90 degree October heat with the requisite Bud Light Lime. And apparently flights carrying us and/or family members between MN and NY were frequent enough that most NWA/Delta pilots now half expect to see at least one of us occupying a seat each time they prepare for another takeoff. It was the year Mike got to shake President Obama's hand while on a shoot photographing members of the President's Cabinet while Jo got to log 1 million miles on the Garden State Parkway assisting schools with their online plans for mass closures due to swine flu, I mean H1N1. And last but not least, it marked 8 years of marriage and the same number living in NY, our second calendar year of being parents and 12 consecutive months of constantly questioning whether or not we suck at it. We've come to the conclusion that we're doing OK.
To the first full week of 2010. The first 7 day streak of cold, holiday decoration-less, vacation-less days of the new year. But also the first 7 day streak of new goals, clean'ish slates, the sun staying out just a bit longer each day, and my particular favorite - the takeover of candy hearts in the holiday isle at the grocery store. OK, it is a little depressing that US consumerism has created the year of the never ending holiday, stringing along directly from one to the next regardless of how many weeks off the next date might actually fall on the calendar, but I happen to fancy Valentines Day (and candy hearts), so, well... just so. And anyhow, PHEW. Bring on the new year. Three cheers to 2010! Wait, make that four.