In this year I survived the final trimester of my final pregnancy, my final labor, and my final experience of raising a baby from birth to nine months old. My resolution for 2014 was to merely survive it. Attempting anything else, such as getting out of debt, getting in shape, doing more of this or less of that, felt overwhelming and unnecessary. Nails needed to be trimmed, baths administered, food prepared, sippy cups proferred, bedsheets stripped. And so as of two hours from now I will have survived 2014. I have two beautiful, healthy, complicated children. They are content and safe in their beds. They were manufactured in and then expelled from my body, a fact that still dumbfounds me.
In 2015 there will be no pregnancy, labor, and very little breastfeeding. Next year will mostly be about potty training and negotiating a newly mobile baby. I don't know if a year from now Theo and Bobby will be safe in their beds in Bobby's current room or if I will still be out here on the couch. I don't know how my event will go, if I'll be out of debt, if I will be able to have Theo in preschool. There are a lot of unknowns going into next year.
My hope for next year is continued health for all of us. I hope I have a good event and see the back of this poverty for once and for all. I hope I get a little of my old self back - traveling with the band, taking up yoga again, dressing better when I no longer have to wear breastfeeding/puke-friendly clothes. I hope I take on Theo's second year with more aplomb than I did Bobby's. I hope I don't blow up like a balloon when I lose the calorie burning benefits of breastfeeding.
It's 10 PM on New Year's Eve and I'm in bed watching Tootsie and I'm ok with that. I doubt I'll make it to midnight. If I don't, see all you guys on the other side!