This is it! The very last day of NaBloPoMo! I wasn’t sure if I could manage a post every day, but I did it and I am awesome and I would like some celebratory chocolate, please.

If you recall, waaaaaaay back on November 1st, I kicked off NaBloPoMo with a Perfect Post award for Michelle. Even though I’m not technically supposed to give it out until tomorrow, I thought it would be really neat to end this month the same way I began. So without further ado, I would like to present November’s Perfect Post winner…

Queen Beth from Her Majesty’s Throne!

Now people, if you don’t already know who Beth is, you deserve a whuppin’. This girl is amazing. Not only is she one hot broad, but she’s a wonderful writer whose words come directly from the heart. My favorite thing about Beth’s blog is her honesty- with her readers and herself. She’s one of those people who isn’t content to just sit and watch life go by. She is always searching for ways to grow as a woman and a mother, and I respect her deeply for that.

Although she’s written tons of fabulous posts, one in particular really touched me this month. In the post entitled “Choices“, she writes about her struggles as a stepmother who loves her stepson fiercely, despite all of the hurt that’s wrapped up in their relationship. This post is a wonderful example of her courage as a writer. She really puts herself out there with such openness and raw emotion. This is one of the reasons I love blogs. They give me the chance to step inside someone else’s world and mind and heart. Through blogs I am able to meet people like Beth, and come away from reading their words feeling like the world is a better place.

Go visit Beth and read her post. And then send me that celebratory chocolate.

See the other Perfect Post winners here and here.

Greg Page, the lead singer and “yellow” member of The Wiggles is officially leaving the group today, according to various news articles. The group will be holding a press conference in Australia to announce his departure, and presumably bring understudy Sam Moran into the group as a full-time member.

34 year old Greg has been suffering from a “mystery illness” for the last few months following his hernia surgery in December 2005. Apparently he has been fainting, using a cane to walk, and experiencing exhaustion so severe that he has been unable to perform in recent concerts. He has been undergoing tests, but so far doctors aren’t sure what is causing his debilitating symptoms. The good news is that he does not have cancer, as rumored. Hopefully with rest and medical attention he will be able to make a full recovery, and come back to fulfill his wiggly duties.

My kids aren’t that into The Wiggles anymore, but we have been to their concert and Babs knows who Greg is. Seeing the group without him as their front man will surely bring up questions. What will you say to your kids? How have your kids reacted to the loss of Steve Irwin? In the horrible, awful, heart-breaking event that Greg Wiggle passes away, would you tell your kids?

I think that maybe I am way too attached to these people. When I heard about the death of The Crocodile Hunter, it deflated me. I loved him. And I was really sad when Blue’s Clues Steve went away to “college”. The Wiggles have been part of the soundtrack of my kids’ childhoods, and for Greg to have to retire under these circumstances breaks my heart a little bit. Is it normal to care so much about people I’ve never met?

You’ll be missed, Greg Wiggle. Please get better.

Update: The press conference was held, and Greg did indeed announce his departure from The Wiggles. It turns out he has a condition called “orthostatic intolerance” which has something to do with his heart being unable to pump enough blood while he is standing. It is not life-threatening. Sam Moran will be the new lead singer.

When I was little, one of my dad’s favorite ways to get me out of bed quick in the morning was to look out my window and say, “It snowed last night!” Without fail, even if it was mid-August and I had slept with a fan on to ward off the heat, I would pop out of bed wide awake to see if it was true. (His other favorite way to wake me up was to hold a glass of water over my head and threaten to dump it if I didn’t wake up. Granted, I have never been a morning person, but I strongly believe that these early morning traumas contributed to my great need for therapy later in life.)

Living in the Northwest, our winters have always been wet and mild. I can count on one hand the memories I have of waking up to a white Christmas. On the rare occasions that we got a snowfall heavy enough to allow sledding, every child in the neighborhood would be outside as long as their cold little toes could take it. You had to pack every fun snow activity you could think of into one day, because you never knew if the snow would still be there tomorrow. Every yard would be littered with snow angels and the remnants of a furious snowball fight. Tracks from twenty different sleds led from the homes to the one tiny slope in our neighborhood that could be used as a sledding hill. A proud, dilapidated snowman held a frozen vigil beside every front porch. Snow was magical. Our world shut down completely, as drivers who were unaccustomed to snowy streets all decided to stay home, and schools closed their doors for the day. Everyone was cheerful and full of energy, and neighbors who we hadn’t seen or spoken to for months would be out in their yard calling greetings to the passers by. At the end of the day, I would fall into bed exhausted with red cheeks still burning from the cold and a belly full of hot chocolate. Nothing has ever felt so perfectly satisfying.

When the snow started to fall yesterday, I was so excited. I couldn’t wait to take the girls sledding and teach little Zibbit how to make her first snow angel. But I noticed some other thoughts creeping in that I hadn’t expected. I found myself praying for the snow to please please be melted in time for Babs to go to school on Monday. I mean, not only do I look forward to that little break, but I also pay good money for her to go to class!

Ugh. What a horridly adult outlook.

I was also concerned about driving safely on the slushy streets, and since my mom’s power was out my mind was fervently cataloging all the candles and extra blankets just in case ours went out too. In a way, I felt like the responsible mommy in me was betraying that innocent child inside who wanted nothing more than to run out and catch snowflakes on my tongue. The fluttery anticipation I remember feeling at watching the ground turn white when I was little was overshadowed by the obligation I felt to think ahead and prepare and make sure the kids’ noses were warm enough. The responsibility took away so much of the special magic of our first snowfall this year. As I nervously watched the temperature drop and the streets turn from slush to ice, I thought (not for the first time) that sometimes it really sucks to be a grown-up.