2012 is here. Which means that for the next two months anything I have to write the date on is guaranteed to have some scratched-out numbers on it. Just warning you.
2011 was very good to us. We welcomed our little Marlowe Fiona and she seems to be fitting in with our craziness just fine. I did not suffer any postpartum depression which was a miracle in and of itself, but my body is not bouncing back at all. I am admittedly quite lazy on the food front, but I feel I've been pretty active. We bought a house and sold a condo. I was published. I started a new blog.
2011 was very bad to a lot of people I love very much. My uncle was in a terrible motorcycle accident and is still on his long and painful path of recovery. It has been 6 months now. One of my dearest friends suffered the most terrible loss I can imagine. She is also on her path to recovery. I send all of my good thoughts and energy to them daily and can only hope the universe works the way I think it does.
In 2012 we will be moving. I will be going back to work. M will start daycare. I hope to do more writing, although the outlook seems bleak. I rarely get time to myself, and when I do it feels so decadent all I want to do is sleep and/or lounge. Maybe I should be more disciplined about it, but so far I haven't been. I want to change the way we eat. As of this moment it feels impossible, but I'm hoping that the move will give us a predictable routine and it will all work out.
I don't generally make resolutions. They are impractical and generally self-defeating. But I do like to think about my intentions. And I intend to live this year with love, good energy, and patience.