Years in the Rearview

I haven't done a year in review since 2014.

OK, let's speed round this thing.

2015: The year of getting back on my feet.

Victorious!

Yes, it took the entire year. But although nine of the twelve months were spent with no steady paycheck and about 20 dollars in the bank, I loved 2015. I loved graduating with my Masters in journalism, an experience that filled me with unanticipated pride and excitement. I loved my internship at City Arts and having time to exercise. I loved seeing theatre and busing around and listening to podcasts while doing data entry. I loved interviewing people in crazy locations (like the roof of city hall!) and sizing up classrooms around Bellevue and Issaquah. It was a warm year in Seattle, with an insanely hot and dry summer, and I felt like the entire city was gifting me health and happiness after the mindwarp of Boston.

2016: The year of the incubator.

Man, pregnancy ravaged my appearance.
Pictures from 2016 hit that home.

This year is mostly a blur. That might have something to do with the whole "growing a human being" part of the year. I found out I was pregnant the first week of December 2015, and gave birth the first week of August 2016. So much of my year was spent with my pregnancy—and my desperate attempts to not think about my pregnancy, since I wasn't totally comfortable with it as a concept—forefront in my mind. In that sense, although it was arguably my most productive year, it was also one where I was not myself. I wasn't in control of my timeline, or my actions, or even my own body (which in retrospect, felt like and was constantly betraying me). I went to work, and sat, and grew something. Something that was gorgeous and completely worth it, but even after having Alex, 2016 was spent adjusting to this new role. I had very little control over this year. It feels like the slightest blip. I imagine it will seem even more minuscule further into the future.

2017: The year of settled

Feeling good.

Finally. This year, it seemed to all click. It was the first time in a decade I'd lived in the same apartment for over a year. It was the first time since 2010 I'd had a job for more than a year. As Alex crossed over into her second year of life, I realized that I knew what it was like to be a mother and to have a family unit. As a teacher, I was able to start a second year teaching the same curriculum and realized hey, maybe I don't suck as a teacher. I still...don't...really...love it, but it's becoming comfortable and I can say with confidence that I'm decently effective.

I feel like I have a grasp on the day-to-day act of living instead of constantly waiting. Waiting for a job. Waiting for financial stability. Waiting for a kid. Waiting for the next big thing. Now, I'm not waiting for life to begin. I'm just living, which is a lovely place to be. Coasting in the current is infinitely preferred to swimming against it.

2018: The year of future hopes

Bring it on, 2018.

Now that I'm all "settled," there's no need to rest on any laurels. That was 2017. I had that year. Now I can push for more, as always. I have hopes for the future, not in a "I wish I was there already and can't wait for that to happen" way, but in a "let's start doing the things I want for the future" way. Taylor and I started an exercise habit last year, which has been shockingly wonderful.* I'm starting to think about the food habits I'm passing on to Alex, and becoming better friends with produce and tofu. Speaking of passing things to Alex, I want her to see her parents as whole people, people who participate in the world around them. It's rough for me to force myself out of the house. It's easy to get into work-Alex-sleep mode. But I don't want her to think that everything is work, or everything is just family. I want her to care about others, to make good friends, to actually do the things that interest her. I'm responsible for modeling that. This year, I want to start becoming the type of person I want my kid to be.

That may be the most domestic thing I've ever written/said/thought.

I'm standing by it. In the quest to be whole, in 2018 I want to:

• Do something for myself every week, and have that thing be completely away from my family. 
• Write. Send my writing someplace (with the hopes of getting published again this year).
• Read half of Jesus the Christ.
• Become a director completist. I hope to keep this every year. For now I'm starting small, and will be watching every film by Guillermo del Toro.**
• Run a 5k.
• Do increasing push-ups every week.
• Learn how to do a headstand (heyyyyy, yoga).
• Try ten recipes from the Italian cookbook I got for Christmas.
• Go to a movie at the EMP. Fine, at the MoPOP.***

Here's to 2018, and the quest for extension outside the comfort zone. 

*I never thought I'd feel so good after working out. Ugh. It's like I'm one of those people who gets an exercise glow. I'm one step away from preaching the benefits of proper protein and form. Somebody stop me!
**I'm going to exclude films I've already seen, unless I want to watch them again. Because I have ZERO desire to see Pacific Rim again. There. I said it.
***I will never get over that name change. At least, not for another year or so.