Ushering In 2009

Sophia ushered in the new year in her sleep. I hope she had sweet dreams.

I was stuck on the throne at home when the clock struck midnight. The spicy Thai Express lunch made sure I missed the fireworks from my kitchen window (we're on the 12th floor, facing the city and from the kitchen window we caught the fireworks during last year's festivities).

Rizal spent the night out with his two friends (Mat from KL and Chin Mun from Australia) watching the fireworks from his office and then painting the town red later.

It's just another year. Dates are just print on paper and footnotes on my monitor, hardly markers of time whizzing by.

I witness the passing of the days and coming of the nights by the shortening hemlines of Sophia's pants, her aptitude for new words and phrases and her increasing skill in figuring out her jigsaw puzzles, and I find that I can't wish long or hard enough that time would slow itself down so that I can enjoy her toddlerhood a little longer. Her babyhood has long departed, leaving only wisps of its shadow behind and I know she cannot stay my little baby very much longer.

From the day she was born I've been sending little mental memos to myself: you have to let go, you must let go. If I tell myself early enough maybe it will be easier for me as she grows and when finally the day comes, I hope I can willingly tell the world to go ahead and show my girl all it has to offer.

In the meantime, I'm keeping up with the mental notes.