Twenty years

I had grand plans to blog today and leave you with something profound and insightful to read, as you wipe a tiny tear from the corner of your eye. But today, not only did Helen awaken at 6 a.m., so did Ruthie. Perhaps on a different day of the week I could handle it, but Thursday mornings are tough. I do my NICU thing on Wednesdays, and it makes for along day for me, the last few hours of which are generally somewhat draining emotionally. I need time to unwind when I get home, and invariably end up going to bed late. So here I am, tired, achy and not wanting to do much but curl up on the couch and wait for Survivor to start at 8 p.m.. But alas, dinner must be made, Helen took a very abbreviated nap, so she is here with me instead of dreaming of sugarplums and binkies up in her crib, and Benny has basketball tonight, so I'll be putting the things to bed alone.
I feel though, as if I should not complain. My blog today was supposed to be reflection on where the last twenty year have taken me. I did not pick the number twenty from a random place in my head. This day has great significance. Today I am celebrating twenty years of sobriety. On this day, in 1987, I had hit the low point of my life. It's scary to think what a mess one can make of her life in seventeen years. I was completely confused, terrified, horribly lonely, but I knew I didn't want to be there, and I didn't want to be worse. I was lucky to have certain opportunities placed in front of me, and I was lucky enough to make the most of them. I worked hard, harder than I knew I could. I spent 14 long months doing nothing but figuring out how to change my life. And twenty years later, I have things that never could have been mine before. This is the part where, if I weren't so tired, I might start awing you with the wonders of my life, in a prose so rich as to, again, leave you wiping a tiny tear from the corner of your eye. but I'm too tired, and the words I currently have at my disposal coudn't do it justice. So I'll just show you what I have.
I have this


And I have this



And I have this



And really, what more could I possibly want.