Snow days make me writey.

A few days ago, it occurred to me that if I had stayed pregnant, Lucky and I would be expecting a baby in two and a half months. When I pointed that out to him, his reaction mirrored mine: head-shaking shock, followed by a brief hit of sadness, settling into wonder that holy crap, we are really doing this, it is very real.

2008 was quite the year for us. We won thirty-five hundred dollars in a manner that was so unlikely that it gets less and less believable with time, and when I relay the story to new listeners, I find myself expressing genuine shock along with them. That win precluded our trip to Japan, which I was reminiscing about just a few weeks ago. I was trapped in a boring conference session, and surreptitiously pawing through my bag to find ways to entertain myself while still looking professional and engaged. I pulled out my day-planner, and pretended that I was poring over my Very Important Engagements while I actually read through the travel journal I keep on our trips, and remembered the food and people and sights and excitement of that week.

After all that excitement, our spring settled down in March, and Lucky put his action-oriented self to work sorting out the steps in our path to parenthood. He plied me with sushi and good wine, and we found a great new apartment with a second bedroom that is ostentatiously for our extra stuff and Lucky's hockey gear, though absolutely no one is buying that crap. Our summer was full of speculation and excitement about the tiny bunch of cells turning into a baby in my tummy, which began its little life in June, only to end it sometime in early August. Time and good love from each other and our fabulous family and friends have healed up the rawness, and left us with the reassurance that our pieces do fit together as they should, and the solid conviction that we really, really want this.

In the fall, we were busy with work and sushi and wine, and highlights like by BFF finally moving her butt back to this time zone, omg, what took her so damn long? Gawd. The holiday season geared up as fast as it always does, and we've been caught up in the whirlwind of seeing people we should really see more often, hunting down perfect presents for friends and family, eating and cooking a whole lot, and sleeping-in like champs. We've always been good at the sleep-ins, but I think I had a record year for present-finding, and I'm unapologetically still on a high from cooking the turkey for Lucky's family's Christmas dinner, and doing it quite well, if I do say so myself. And I do. Often. When I'm not getting Lucky to say it for me.

We kicked off 2009 with an apartment full of our buddies, and if that night was any indication, this is going to be a good year. Of course, it could also be a long, drunk, loud year, but I'm just going to be choosy with my impressions and pick out the happiness and laughter as the aspects with staying power. I can't say I won't feel a pang on the day in March that was supposed to be my due date, but I can tell you that it won't be a simple pang. It's a pang that means a lot of things, and recalls quite the year. It also holds promises about quite the year to come.

I'm a survivor.

So, the move happened. I owe some big ups to the sweet baby Buddha, or someone. The packing was pretty well finished by Friday night, and final touches were in place Saturday morning, before our loyal band of moving buddies showed up. There were a few glitches (Like that time when Lucky insisted on wearing sandals on moving day, and he wouldn't listen to me about that being a bad idea, and someone rolled a dresser over his foot and bent his toenail back all the way, and I vomited a little? That was awesome.) but over all, it was a good day, as much as that kind of labour and orchestration can be good. I was reminded that our friends are fantastic, and that it's always exciting to watch a group of engineering buddies get way too jazzed about lowering a massive hide-a-bed couch over a second floor balcony. It wasn't quite as suspenseful as when they moved it in, which involved stepping up on chairs while they bench pressed the behemoth up to more guys who leaned precariously over the railing, the strength of which was untested, but we'll always have the memories. This time, they used ropes and a ladder, and blah blah blah safety precautions, and it took some of the spice away. Anyhoodle, the couch was moved, and I am sitting on it right now. Shout out!

So now, the major job is unpacking, and figuring out where the hell my Mom put things in the kitchen when she was "helping" by bopping around in there while the rest of us were moaning a little and eating pizza. I love her, but why would you stack all of the heavy pots together on the bottom shelf so that my already damaged back dies a little more when I haul them out?

Nevertheless, this is the (relatively) fun part. I can find some enjoyment in setting up our new home, and exploring our new neighbourhood. As for Lucky, he is content to cuddle with the dishwasher and whisper sweet nothings in its detergent space. Thankfully, I'm not the jealous type.