minutes before the clock struck midnight and 2012 rolled into 2013, a ripe nine months pregnant, i sat with colin, my parents, and my aunt and uncle, and listened as we went around the room, each sharing our new years resolutions. when my turn came, i could only think of one thing to say: "to survive."
i think i can say i did.
i had a lot of things coming up, you see. a baby to birth, and then a newborn to care for, a little boy to feed and raise and love, a condo to sell, a house to look for and somehow buy. survival would require finding a new home, a new balance, an entire new way of being.
the baby was born several weeks after i made my resolution. our love for her, and the ease in which our little angel fit into our lives, aided that transition, so that, despite the inherent difficulties, it somehow felt seamless. quinn arrived, and our family grew, just as it was always meant to do.
selling the condo was a crazy dance of showings and cleaning and staging, all with a toddler and newborn and dog in tow. somehow we did it. somehow it sold. i barely remember how it all played out, except that it did.
with the condo sold, we found ourselves soon-to-be homeless, which lit a fire of anxiety colin and i hope to never again feel. at the same time, the housing market experienced a historic surge, and we became more and more frantic. we made four offers on three different homes (two on this one), got into a bidding war, and almost lost the deal after a disastrous inspection. we moved into my parents house for three weeks before the closing (thank you, mud and dud!), during which time both children came down with a vicious virus. and then, one day, the crazy dance was over, and we were home. we are home.
in the meantime, the baby grew, and learned to smile and laugh and crawl and eat and wave, and is just about to take her first step and say her first word. the toddler's legs stretched longer and thinner still, and he's much more a little boy than a baby, and sometimes that makes me sad. i had the honor of being a bridesmaid in three of my best friends' weddings, we made two seven-hour road trips with the children (and finally got to see anne in saint paul), and we got a cat (who is actually more like a raccoon, but that's a story for another day).
in between it all, i breathed and tried to see it all for what it was, for the miracle that my children and family are, for how truly blessed i am. i tried to do that, but didn't do it nearly enough, and that's one of my resolutions for this next year: to notice it all more, to take it in, to take deeper breaths, and to savor it. it's not lost on me that these are the best days, the days we'll always miss and remember and yearn for.
there's that, and then, of course, i resolve to find a babysitter and exercise more. but those are side notes.
2013 marked a grand finale of the swirl of change that began for us the moment i discovered i was pregnant with will. i expect 2014 to bring a degree of peace and homeostasis to the rapidly moving tides of our life, as we settle in and dig deeper and grow taller. don't worry, though. we won't get bored. change, i'm sure, is just around the corner.
