Here's to the 10s!

HAPPY NEW YEAR readers of Peaches & Coconuts!! I hope wherever you are and whatever you’re doing, you’re feeling effervescently ebullient or ebulliently effervescent or just plain happy.

We here in the dazzling metropolis of Essex County New Jersey will be kicking 2009 to the curb and shouting, “Good riddance, you Sod!” Our arms are open to 2010 as wide as a fully dilated cervix pushing out an 11 pound baby with the head the size of a disco ball. “Come to Mama, 2010! We’ve been waiting for you for a bloody long year!”

I don’t feel the need to review the year for you here and now. What a downer that would be on this festive eve. We’ve had it up to here with unemployment and uncertainty (hand in salute position at the top of my freshly plucked eyebrow). Tonight is the night we look into the eyes of the 10s with hope and a killer thirst for champers. Do we really have to wait until midnight to pop open the bubbly? It’s 2010 in Blighty, innit? And given that I am a dual citizen, I believe I should start drinking for England right about now. Not to worry my dear, cherished readers. We have enough booze to get us through the evening and well into the day tomorrow when we’ll be drinking bloody marys for a hair of the dog brunch.

The boys are in bed. We’ve got a fire going and music playing and we’re waiting on a couple of friends to pop over to share in a toast. We already had some primo champagne chilling in the fridge in honour of Gabriella’s new job at a company we’ll refer to as Shmoomberg. Of course I am thrilled for Gabriella that this job will be challenging and inspiring. I haven’t seen her so jazzed about a job in a very long time. I, however, will be raising my glass to the cash that her new job brings which will allow us to once again purchase the expensive, soft and quilted toilet tissue whose every square brings joy to my lady bits. I can’t wait to get through that last roll of scratchy, cheap onion skin that reminds me of our financial ruin with every wipe. My bits deserve better!

And after our bloody mary brunch, we’ll savour the last days our little family can enjoy being altogether without the disruption of work. We will be creating as many postcard moments as we can with the boys. And one day when they are old enough to blame us for all of their insecurities and failures caused by the neglect of two working parents, we’ll be able to point to these photos as proof that we spent time with them once...so they should quit kvetching and go tell someone who cares.

Happy New Year!