The story of my life is this: I'm way too serious. I need to contemplate. Reflect. Write. Meditate. And whenever I do one of these things while Hannah is awake, she inevitably runs into the room screaming "PAAAAARTY!," balloons and tequila in tow. While I know that spinning eggs isn't necessarily the most Zen of meditative processes, I derive some kind of sweet peace from the simplicity of it - the sound of plastic spinning on wood, the pastel colors becoming blurs to my vision as I try to work out the world's problems in my Mommy-addled brain. Then Hannah puts a hand on each of my shoulders and shakes me out of my funk. And I feel so much better. I'm truly blessed to have this little Buddha as my own. And so, without further ado . . . a Hannah moment: In which there is sneezing, bowing and spinning of eggs. You're welcome.
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