Highlights and other things that shine.

It's 11pm on New Year's Eve. I'm sharing the sofa comfortably with Chris and the cat while Maus is curled up on the rug in front of us. There's a great fire crackling in the fireplace. Chris started it earlier, just before he ran to town to get me some cranberry juice. Man... I love that guy.
The kids both fell asleep long ago. Jason Mraz is appropriately serenading me with his opinion on humanity. We're waiting to ring in the new year and reflecting on the events of the past year as most everyone in the world is doing. Despite this perfect little scene I feel enormous amounts of angst. I always do this time of year. Maybe it's the finality of everything. Maybe it's the pressure of planning out an even better year for 2011. This year was pretty damn good and that's a lot of pressure.

Highlights for 2010:

• Chris and I started officially dating in January (although we've dated before and have known each other for many years)
• Jackson turned 1 in February. I still can't believe we made it through that first year and here we are, just barely over a month until his second birthday.
• We got Maus in May. She came to us after she experienced the loss of her previous owner and has truly become part of the family.
• The Big Red Barn Farmers Market started in June and had its first successful season.
• I completed my first year working as the Public Relations and Marketing Coordinator for Lincoln Hospital District 3 this fall. I still enjoy the job and continue to learn almost more than I can handle about the medical field, health care reform and communications on a daily basis.
• In writing this, I realize that my general feeling of contentment over the events of the past year come not from the big events like those listed above, but from the little things. The time Chris and I went camping, the first time we took the kids to Mobius, our bike trip in the rain, Greenbluff, the trips to Jackson Hole, sitting on the front porch watching the summer storms, my failed attempt at gardening that ended up making for a pretty good photo shoot, Bluegrass music, driving to Heppner to get my Grandma Judy's piano. painting the living room green and the kitchen orange, Fam-Damily Day... I can think of a million moments that made this year amazing.

One moment in particular occurred on Christmas Day. I was digging around in my stocking and came across a small, green, velvet box. The box felt too light to be what I thought it should be, but my heart skipped a couple beats anyway and I slowly opened it up... to find a piece of paper. That paper led to another and then another and then another. Finally, it led me back to my stocking which I had emptied earlier. Inside was a small, polished box. Again, my heart skipped a couple beats. I knew what was happening and I was trying to savor every single moment... to soak it in as though in slow motion. I opened the box to find... absolutely nothing. In that split second I second guessed everything I thought was going on. Maybe it was just a really, really bad joke. In which case, I had determined that I would then break up with Chris and deem this the worst Christmas ever.
I looked up to meet Chris's eyes. They were so intent, so genuine, so loving. I knew it wasn't a joke. And then he simply said, "Merry Christmas, Carey. I love you so much. Will you marry me?" and he slipped the most beautiful ring on my finger. I, of course, said yes- followed by something brilliant like, "I already told you I would marry you..." (obviously we had discussed this previously and apparently I felt the need to remind him of this). In the background, my mom was saying something brilliant like, "She's too young to get married!" while furiously snapping pictures.

Right there, on Christmas morning, in front of Jackson and my parents, Chris proposed to me. I had just gotten out of bed, had no make-up on, was in my pajamas and didn't even care. It was rightfully the highlight of my year.