Last! Post! of! the! YEAR!

 NEW YEAR'S EVE! And finally, it is CHIC to have no plans!

I just checked in with last year;'s word of the year and resolutions, and I feel terrible, MY WORD WAS TOGETHER. THIS IS ALL MY FAULT.

My resolutions were sort of screwed by COVID, but who even knew? I wil say the one I like the most is "find a new series to read to Dorothy and Cooper." Ben is reading them Harry Potter, and this is such  a multitasking win, I cannot even.

My word this coming year is QUIET because holy hell things are loud over here. I want to find my own quiet, kind of like how Glennon Doyle talks about her "Knowing." I also want to create space for creativity, much writing, and the appreciation of a tiny person's tiny milestones.

Speaking of: STANDING LIKE A BIG GIRL and clearly quite proud of it:

Blogger uploaded these photos backwards, but the long and short of it is that we made successful hot chocolate bombs! We used the Real Simple recipe and it was indeed REAL SIMPLE. I got these molds on the devil's website.

OH MISS MINNIE.

You guys. It would clearly be SO EMBARRASSING if Harry's friends saw him in a coat.

Ben got me the big Lancôme makeup box he always buys me, and I have been in a FULL FACE every day, and I am hooked.

I am addicted to taking a picture of her as I slip out the door when she goes down for a nap.

From her Grandma Karen for Christmas:

NEVER buy this chair for your babies! Not only did I BRUISE Minnie's delectable little thigh lifting her out of it yesterday morning, but Ben SMASHED HER TINY FINGERS in the tray putting her in yesterday afternoon. We called the doctor, were worried that they were broken, etc. Then we went straight to the Target app and ordered the giant stand up toy and tossed the chair. (In Ben's fauxffice. It would be totally safe sans toys, but I needed a minute).

Ready to walk-- can't you tell?

What can I say about 2020 except that it was a shit year and also the most wonderful year because we had our rainbow baby Minnie?

We have all been home together since March, and we have no plans to change that even though our school district is making the morally reprehensible choice to open its doors at the height of the pandemic and cold and flue season, when UW students are coming back to town, when the vaccine is on the horizon, etc. I am so sick about that and what it means for community spread and the lives of teachers that I cannot even handle it. But. I am online in the Spring (and was planning to teach online all along pre-pandemic because of the impending baby). Ben will be remote through June at least. And we are keeping the kids home as well, trying to resist the middle class urge to feel like our kids are somehow behind. SPOILER: THEY ARE ALWAYS ALREADY AHEAD because we have jobs and food and a home.

In some ways, the pandemic made my life easier-- no social pressures (people give me anxiety), no need to buy new clothes for my growing body. I have truly loved not taking the kids to any activities ever and eating dinner together every night. I take a shower at 7:30 and spend my whole night in my jammies snuggled up on the couch, baby often in arms, and this is the perfect way to live. I feel unending gratitude sitting next to Ben with a snack I probably don't need to eat, something terrible on TV, and my impossibly sweet sighing baby who sleeps all night long as long as she can be curled next to me.

 In terms of grief, this year might have made the loss of my dad and my grandma's death easier, which sounds weird, but I have been so worried about getting sick and keeping the kids safe that other emotions feel further away. I miss her, but I have missed her all year, unable to visit. I miss her, but I have missed her since she had her stroke, since her house vanished, since our family holidays scattered. It was easier to spend holidays without my dad this year because we spent holidays without ANYONE. Same with Minnie. It was like I could pretend that he just hadn't met her yet because NO ONE could meet her right away. Still. That familiar sadness is back now because of his birthday and all the NYEs we spent together. I remember a college boyfriend breaking up with me because I made him drive from St, Louis to Peoria to spend NYE with me and then ditched him to go out with my parents instead. And I am so glad I did. A dim steak house, a giant cut of meat that's a little too red in the middle to be completely safe from food-born illness, a steady supply of vodka tonics with sweaty limes that fall on the table-- my favorite way to party to this day.

So. Here I sit on my enormous privilege pillow reflecting on a year that has been so terrible fo so many and finding it--- just fine. Lovely, even. An incredible bonus year. Another year where my high schooler is a baby, and I have a baby in my arms to kiss and smell. A gift.