Buying A Gift For Me?

People have been asking me what I want for Christmas, which for the record, is a nice thing to be asked. That hasn't always been the case, but this isn't a pity writing, just an observation. Anyway, my first reply is usually something brillantly keen, such as, "I don't know." Or, "Um, boy, nothing that I can't think of." Yeah, whatever. I've been putting some thought into this the last few nights, though, and although Christmas is just hours away, I think my answer is "Time." I'd like more time. I'd like more time to do nothing. I'd like more time to spend less time doing things. I'd like more time to spend more time doing things I don't have the time to do. That's what I want. Too bad time isn't for sale. Someone would make a killing. It wouldn't surprise me if someone doesn't figure out a method for doing just that down the road, if they already haven't. But that's what I want. Time. You don't even have to wrap it. Just stick it in an old shoe box; the lid is optional.

Coming Full Circle

Tomorrow my baby turns 1. What a year. What a fabulous 365 days of exploration and discovery. What a fantastic journey it's been already. The joy has been immeasurable. The smiles she has generated I can never repay. The happiness she's invoked every single day I could have never imagined. She's not my first child, but she feels like it. Maybe because I was 40 and more ready. Maybe because I wasn't so easily distracted by matters that don't matter. Maybe because her innocence showed me again there's plenty left in this world that is innocent. I don't know. I don't fully understand her power. I don't begin to know how she could have such a profound influence. I don't really care. I'm content in knowing she's going to be around for another year. I intend to do the same. She's beautiful. She's adorable. She's funny. She's smart. She's resilent. She's everything I hoped. Happy Birthday, RJ. And thank you.