Things I learned in 2016:
If you let your blog just sit silent for two years, the world still spins and good things happen, children grow, friendships develop, friendships are lost, love endures, and for some reason, “The Bachelor” survives amidst it all.
My mother was right: short hair really does look best on me.
It’s always good to try new things, and to push yourself beyond your comfort zone, but only if it’s something you want.
You can’t do it for someone else.
Guacamole is delicious.
I don’t know everything, even though I often think and act like I do. Being open to listening and learning is a strength, not a weakness.
“Simple” is just so good.
Saying no to nonsense is awfully good too, even if everyone else seems to say yes.
Go at your own pace.
I don’t do small talk. Really, I’m lousy at it. Nothing sounds more terrifying to me than having to walk up to a group and introduce myself or start a conversation. I’m just better at one-on-ones. Or sitting on my own couch watching That Touch of Mink.
Of course, you’re welcome to join me.
Never say never. Really: don’t do it. It just makes you look like a schmuck when you eventually do/say/become that thing you’d sworn high and low you wouldn’t.
I’m not a fingernail polish girl: way too much maintenance. I’m all over getting the toes done, though. In fact that’s a necessity.
Time won’t stop. I’ve noticed exactly one age spot near my right eye and all that smiling really will put a few crinkles on the face, though it’s totally worth it.
There are approximately 789 varieties of anti-aging lotions and eye creams, all promising to rid you of them. I may have tried a few.
If you lean back slightly when you wear high heels, the odds of you staying upright increase.
It’s better not to wear high heels. Stick to jeans and Toms.
The Boy—my boy—is taller, sillier, wiser than he ever was.
There are moments when he still has that little boy face, but more often than not, I wonder where that little guy went and who is the kid with the backpack thrown over one shoulder, the jacket unzipped on a 33-degree day (WHY won’t they zip?!), walking down my front walk toward the bus stop.
I don’t mind my getting older, but I seriously take offense to his aging. 10 is probably the most perfect age.
(This photo was taken during his forced Christmas card photo shoot. It’s the only one I thought he wouldn’t mind my posting since he’s not looking directly at the camera. I have to think of those things now that he’s older and has an opinion.)
I’m not good at routines, beyond the get-up-make-the-bed-drink-the-coffee-feed-the-boy-report-to-work one. So I can’t say how often I’ll be back here, just that I want to be back here more often than once-every-two-years.
Just like an old friend who spontaneously knocks on your door to say hello, which, 2016 has taught me, is a precious and very good thing.