In addition to mostly keeping up with last year’s accomplishments, I can check off finishing Middlemarch and I’m on my way to learning how to cook red meat well, thanks to Beef Week and my overstuffed deep freeze. We also started to explore Charlottesville and Staunton, even in my waddlesome state. My flowers on the table rate probably hit about 60%. It’s a start.
- Fitting in long walks at every opportunity. This is almost entirely pregnancy-related, though, and I’ve spent almost all of my 31st year pregnant, so I’m going to let it slide.
- Plan another trip like the Dales Way. Well, I got knocked up. And I didn’t travel except once, I think, this pregnancy, and that was perfect. Maybe for 2018? We’d like to at least do the Virginia Creeper Trail. Or, you know, we could go big and go back to Inkland. That would be dreamy.
- Celebrating the liturgical year. But! We got St. Nicholas Day and Michaelmas, All Saints and All Souls, so it’s not total despair city, even though we didn’t even dye Easter eggs till fall. (Darn you, morning sick Lent.)
Most importantly, though, I think I came a long way in learning to be more gentle with myself and the people I love. I can thank a fairly crappy pregnancy for that, but I was forced to begin to learn how to prioritize, to let little things go, and to try to enjoy my family instead of striving for exhausting perfection when my body literally couldn’t give anymore. Pregnancy meant I had to let a lot of plans and goals go, but look what I ended up with: a snuggly newborn curled on my belly as I write this. What could be a better 32nd birthday gift?