Four.

It's here. Colin is finally turning four. I honestly questioned whether we would make it or not.

Three has been a hellish ride of tantrums and cuddles. One minute he's beggin for hugs and kisses and the next minute he's pulling a chunk of my hair out while screaming that he hates me. 

But I see a change. I see him beginning to boil over but trying not to. I can see him trying to think before he speaks. Trying to "get a hold of himself," as he calls it. Tantrums don't happen every day. There is a day or two reprise, and I'm grateful. 

He is so proud of turning four. He wants to be a big boy, and for some reason, he has decided four is that mile marker. He is smart and confident. He loves an audience. He has an intense need to be loved. In the middle of a tantrum, he will scream, "I need a hug. And. A. KISS!"  However angry we are at each other, somewhere in that three, about to be four, wisdom, he knows that we just need to stop and love each other. 

Smart cookie, that one. 

This time four years ago, I was waiting out labor at home. Waiting for contractions. Pretending I might make it all night by going to bed. My water had broken at noon, so we waited. At 2:45, we left for the Birth Center. By 5:30, he was born. Around noon, be came back home and united our family of five. 

Colin Henry, you complete us. You are hard work. You are tons of laughs. You are challenging and rewarding. You are my daddy made over. You are 100% unique and your own self. 

I love you.

Not laughing

Eight days in and I'm working hard on my resolutions. I've played piano, even *gasp* practiced, every day. And, of course, on the seventh day, a key broke. The A below Middle C. Number 37. One of my favorites. Sigh. Isn't that how this decade has been? We resolve to do better, get further, be more. We make plans and set goals, only to find that the universe has much different ideas. From new jobs to cancer to crazy people to whatever else, life keeps throwing things at us. We keep ducking. We keep getting pegged anyway. That key. Both pieces I'm working on are in a minor. So funny, universe. So very funny. Pardon me while I don't laugh.

Project Birthday Party

Christmas, check.

New Years, check.

That can only mean one thing. It's time for Project Birthday Party.

This past year, I swore that I would just have a simple party at some place with a bunch of inflatable things that kids can jump on and slide down. Of course, that's not happening. I just can't resist a theme.

The first hint came on Instagram the other day. 

Not too hard to guess if you have had a kid in your house anytime in the past 10 years. Here's clue number two:

There is much to do. Many platypli to cut out for a platypus search. Many 2 liter bottles to collect for science experiments. Many cupcakes to make. Many many things to do. Seriously. You only turn 6 and 4 once in your life. Why spend it in a well santitized bounce house? I'll probably have a very valid answer to that question the day after this party.

Our Year

Fresh start. I'm a big fan of fresh starts. Some would say it's because I don't usually finish things. Not me. I wouldn't say

Resolutions come easy in my head, but I don't like them. I don't like making promises I know I can't keep. Unless you are my youngest son. Apparently, making promises I can't keep have driven us into a cycle of arguments and tantrums that just can't be beat.

There are things I want to be doing that I'm not doing though. Like writing. Hello, month of November that I just totally quit writing. I want to write. Not just for epic reasons, but for the everyday. The little things. Like how Colin became obsessed with IceMan from Spiderman and his Amazing Friends from the 19EIGHTY's. It was the only thing he asked Santa to bring. Thanks to eBay, Santa brought a vintage action figure which Colin now stores in the freezer. Because where else would IceMan want to reside?

Stay cool, IceMan.

Music. Since I can't seem to finish anything there, I'm simply resolving to play my piano everyday. Be it a scale or two, a little Chopin, or getting back to those Beethoven sonatas, or a song or two -whatever. If I can get my butt up to the studio at least once a day, then I imagine it's going to be easier to make some music.

Sugar. It's my mortal enemy. I'm sad or angry, and I turn to sugar. The sugar gives me an instant relief, but then I feel shitty a few hours later. Not to mention the weight I've gained back. Which makes me sad and angry, so I have a donut. Like a dummy. So back on Weight Watchers I go. I have to be accountable to something since I don't seem to deem myself important enough to take care of in a healthy way.

Sewing. Consistently. Not just in a rush. Use what I have and stop buying fabric because it's pretty. I'm so excited about the craft fair that my friend Rachael and I did in December, and I want to do more of those. It was fun, and I felt good about earning money again.

Specraftular and Tweetly Homemade's booth at Holly Days

Caring. For my family. For my animals. For myself. I have to start caring in a more active fashion. Patience. Laundry. Understanding. Clean sheets.Yoga. Less sugar. More real food. These are things that I want to give myself and my family. It shouldn't be hard. I just need to focus.

Focus.

I have so much. These are my children.

This is my husband.

These are my animals.

And this? This is our year.