I love a new year. A fresh start. A blank slate. I've been spending a bit of time this week gutting out some old and outdated stuff from my office, some of it not even mine. Last week I multitasked, deciding to call up the friend the dusty box of 10+ year old documents belonged to and chat with her while I purged, separating metal clips from the recyclables.
Today's stash took me back even farther, to a time predating my current position, but the hanger-onner, ever prepared good girl that I am, I had not turned loose of a binder full of reference material. I quickly thumbed through its contents before committing the pages to the shred can. I flopped the sheets open on a blank note page containing a quote at the bottom. I sat for a moment in silence at the message, so fitting for today:
Yes. So much yes. I was returning to this thing...this binder full of information from 2006 and it was absolutely telling me how I was different and didn't need it anymore. It also reminded me that Nelson Mandela died this month one year ago. He was still alive when I was using that reference material. The second notes page came with another quote that made me laugh. First, because it was a little serendipitous that these quotes just popped up today of all days in my office that is otherwise pretty devoid of inspirational messaging. Secondly, I thought it funny because someone must have thought the subject matter at hand, which at the time was a fairly big change for some staff, might be met with some resistance and they might need to be made to feel better about embracing it.
And I do look to the New Year with hope. I also don't ever discount the old year because we must acknowledge what we did before we can move forward. I'd like to take this time to do that thing that some people do in their Christmas cards where they give a rundown of their year in a way that will inevitably annoy some people, piss people off for being omitted as a highlight, or otherwise aggravate or agitate folks. Ready? OK.
- I failed to renew my free trials of OnStar and XM Radio, and have somehow survived without both.
- I watched the Olympics. I retained zero info about anything except the clothes.
- I learned a new haircutting technique for those "Heather's House of Handsomeness" days at the Lee house.
- I sent my kids off to a rock concert and they came back alive and without any tattoos.
- I schlepped to the school several times for character kid assemblies.
- I made four birthday cakes. Maybe two turned out OK.
- I managed to get myself and the toothed children to the dentist when appropriate.
- I stood up to the Parks & Rec Board. I stood up to the City Council. Neither of those things worked out but we all know it was still the right thing to do. I helped stand up to the Port of Lewiston and that DID work out (temporarily).
- I discovered TED Talks.
- I read a ton of fantastic books.
- I watched a ton of TV. (This sounds bad but I'm also counting all the great, heartbreaking, and informative documentaries on Netflix).
- I got a FAB new roomie at work who doesn't even make me want to punch her in the throat, even on Throat Punch Thursday.
- I got a new boss, and I don't hate his guts yet.
- I cleaned paint out of the carpet.
- I cleaned gum out of the carpet.
- I helped a friend get her sweet daughter's story out to the world on ireport.cnn.com. (Read it here: Crista and Alex's story)
- I enjoyed another week with the Boyles clan.
- I got to reconnect with the classmates after 20 years and have bonus fun with the planners.
- I lost 30 pounds after the class reunion so nobody there would feel bad about themselves. (Just kidding. No, really I did lose the 30 pounds.)
- I became an ordained minister, just because.
- I watched proudly as my #2 kid played football for the first time and his team went undefeated and took the championship. I was equally proud that he shamelessly wizzed on the sidelines in his Auntie's town like he owned the place.
- I became a Hockey Mom. Well, I mean...I don't have the sticker on my car or the bedazzled hoodie yet...but I do wear my vintage Persian baby curly lamb fur coat to games like a crazy person.
- I successfully kept the magic in the Christmas season for my children for another year so they could keep the magic alive for me.
That is my wish for everyone this year, that you welcome whatever comes with an open heart and an open mind, and embrace YOUR life. Share it with the rest of us. Fun, boring, shitshow, whatever form it takes.
PS: One last thing for the year to my list: I'm updating the tagline of my blog today from "A random collection of thoughts and observations about and from my kids and family" to "From rainbows to reality in a heartbeat" because 1) it's time to change things up, and 2) Kris Tanory totally gets credit for pointing out that this descriptor one random day in a CarVersation with Clayton essentially sums up how things go down in the Lee house. As much as we'd like life to look like a Pinterest board, it just...doesn't.