New Year’s Eve has always been a veguely uncomfortable holiday for me. I’ve never been to Times Square to watch the ball fall, I don’t favor loud parties, rarely have I gone out for diner and dancing. We never built any traditions for the evening which didn’t bother me at all until I was alone.

I think I was happiest when I was working in restaurants or when David and I (and one or the other of the girls) went to movies and maybe somewhat of a quick dinner out. The turning of the century was a good NYE—a bunch of friends gathered at David’s father’s house in Jersey. We were living in Indy then and we still had NYC friends, some with small children. We cooked a nice dinner—I don’t remember what. Wine and maybe champagne. We sat in the kind of dining room that I knew growing up and ate on Dad’s good china, lifting his best wine glasses. One friend didn’t accompany his family because he was a computer guy and needed to guard his hard and soft ware if the worst case of Y2K predictions came to pass. Another friend announced that she was adopting a baby from Vietnam—the baby who now has one year old twins of her own. 

One year when we were still in Wisconsin, I took Cheshire and Julia on a New Year’s cruise with Autism on the Seas. The midnight party with music and baloons and cheering crowds was an interesting experience. Something like a tv show–Love Boat, but without anyone to kiss but my girls.

Tonight will be very quiet. Ed has a coughing cold or flu or something—negative Covid test but still sick. I took him some soup this morning, gave him a brief hug, and left.  I am not feeling great—coughing and tired. Perhaps I have whatever he has or something else. I napped a good deal of the day and did little but watch the very depressing second part of Dune on Netflix and have some of my soup. If they make a part 3, I will skip it.  

I was hoping to feel well enough to go to the movies with Julia and see Wicked.

We napped when she got home from her day center and I woke her up in time to get ready for the movie. I was just about to buy tickets when I asked her to get her ear plugs and head phones ready—more insurance for loud movies than real necessities now, but they make her comfortable and so we always bring them.  That sound equipment is kept in specific places so there is no pre-movie panic. However, today Julia had no idea where her head phones or ear plugs were. Evidently, she has not put them away the last time she used them.

Aside: I admit that in the last 15 years, I have become more of a stickler about everything having a place. Stickler or developing OCD? Part of this habit comes from my need for control when my life was spinning so far out of control. I could’t control sadness or fear but I could control where head phones and sizzors and crayons and gloves were. Part of this habit comes from the amount of planning I do to get Julia out of the house or get her doing things in the house. I also think of my insistance on a right place for things as independence training for her. Who knows if it is. And I think part comes from my mother who kept a very orderly house—something I rebelled against for a long time. 

Anyway, it was almost time to leave and Julia had no idea where her sound equipment was. My usualy response is to rush around the house and find them for her which in most cases succeeds, but tonight I was just not at my best and did not want to rush around.

And so, we just didn’t go.

No big deal. No rushing around or scolding or lecturing (which unfortuntately I am prone to). Julia was somewhat shocked, protested and was a bit confused that I was not doing what I usually do.

We just didn’t go.

Natural consequences.  A good lessons for all children although with Julia it does not stick.  Her disappointment fades too quickly to make a lasting impression and I have recued her too many times. A good resolution for the new year might be to allow natural consequences often.

The livingroom lights are lit and the holiday still glows. We’ll have soup for supper and quietly see the old year out. Maybe Julia will do her wash—another much longer story for another time. I don’t expect to be awake at midnight and I am very much at peace with that. I will spend my evening thinking about 2025 resolutions and dreaming of travel plans. I will send pleas to the universe for new day programming to come through for Julia in the next few months. I’ll sign up for next semester’s HILR classes and maybe set some new year’s writing goals. And maybe we’ll go to the movies tomorrow.

This just in, Julia found her head phones and ear plugs, too late to go to the movie but found them nonetheless. Hopefully, she put them in their assigned places.

Blessings for all we have done in 2024 and all we hope for in 2025.