You won’t see me out on New Year’s Eve

 You won’t see me out on New Year’s Eve.

It doesn’t do it for me anymore.

The loud rooms, the countdowns, the pressure to make it a moment. I’ve outgrown it.

I’d rather be home.
In pajamas.
With sticky fingers and sleepy heads tucked under my chin.
Cuddling my babies while the world rushes into another year.

This season of life made the quiet feel like everything.
And there’s no one I’d rather toast at midnight than my kids.