My how things change

We spent New Year’s Eve night like just about every other night this year: hanging out at home.

The biggest difference was I told the boys it could be a really late night and they could stay up to watch the fireworks at midnight. Zander kept double checking with me asking “We get to stay up into midnight, right mommy?” It was quite cute to hear him say. Thankfully, they don’t know how to tell time yet as I was planning on watching the ball drop in New York at 11 and calling it a night. The boys were bound and determined to make it to see the fireworks. About 9:45 they started dragging and repeatedly asking when it would be time. So, I did what any same mother would do, I started a snowball fight using the plastic balls inside Ben’s fire truck. It may not have been the best idea I’ve had all year, but it was quite possibly the most fun. The boys had a blast chucking the balls at me and I kind of enjoying chucking tossing them back. That gave them their second, third or fourth wind of the night (I lost count), but I quickly quieted them with a new movie.

We eventually turned off the lights and cuddled up (Mike and Nick on the floor and me and Zander on the couch) and the boys started to nod off. Nick was the first to fall at about 10:20. Zander kept soldiering through though. He got a little loopy about 10:40 and finally nodded off at 10:49 in some contorted shape on my lap and the couch. I felt so bad that the poor little guy had waited all that time and didn’t even get to see the fireworks. On the other hand I was kind of glad he fell asleep because apparently they don’t shoot off any fireworks for that celebration. I would have had one ticked kid on my hand when there were no fireworks at “midnight.”