New Year, Better Goals

I’m not usually one for resolutions because let’s be honest, who actually sticks to them? But sitting here with my coffee this morning, watching Marcus make his unnecessarily complicated breakfast sandwich (yes, there are four different condiments involved, no I don’t understand it either), I’m feeling something different about 2019.

Last year was… a lot. Sophie started second grade and suddenly had Opinions about everything. Theo turned three and discovered he could climb literally any surface in our house. Marcus went through his homebrewing phase and our garage still smells faintly of hops and broken dreams. I survived night shifts and toddler tantrums and that one week in October when everyone had the flu except me (miracle).

New Year, Better Goals

But this year? This year I want to actually live, not just survive. I’m training for my first 5K because apparently I’m a runner now (still getting used to that identity). I’m learning Mom’s tamale recipe because Theo asked if we could have ‘Abuela’s food’ at our house and I realized I’ve been lazy about keeping our traditions alive. And I’m putting my phone in a drawer during dinner because Sophie called me out last week for checking Instagram while she was telling me about her day. Out of the mouths of eight-year-olds, right?

So here’s to 2019. May it be the year I stop documenting my life and start actually living it. (After I post this, obviously. I contain multitudes.)