Tag Archives: new year

2020 year in review

I’m not sure what to say about 2020. It was quite a year. I’m an introvert, and I had a baby, and so I was prepped to do a lot of staying home and laying low and not really interacting with the public all that much. Then of course the pandemic put all of that into overdrive.

On one hand, it was a really lovely year. I felt like a pioneer. I made sourdough bread and took care of my babies. I felt capable, and it was exactly what I wanted to do.

Except that I would’ve liked to spend more time with human people. I would’ve liked to have had more help with the babies, so that there wasn’t always so much pressure around work, and timing, and getting naps just exactly right for a Zoom meeting, and working at odd times and late into the night because that’s when I could.

At the beginning of the pandemic, we were told to go easy on each other and to be accommodating to each other. At first it seemed like I wouldn’t need this same accommodation, but over time, I came to realize that I did. Even if you weren’t directly impacted by a Covid case, there was an unexpected cascading effect, so that most of us were impacted in one way or another.

In addition to a national/global crisis, 2020 was personally tough for most people I know. My life was no exception. Weirdly challenging things kept happening in 2020. There were literal floods and pestilence, and my heating system broke in, like, six different ways at six different times last winter. Although we never fully had to go without, I had to ration milk for my toddler because of food shortages, something I had never even thought about before in my life.

It’s not over yet, but the vaccine is in sight. I now know people who have received it. As that number increases, I think things will slowly start to feel normal again (though the fallout will last for years). I hope I look back on this year fondly and with gratitude. It’s no exaggeration to say that having to drop a baby off at daycare has been one of the most traumatic experiences of my life, and so I am grateful that I’ve been able to spend so much of my kids’ infancy with them and caring for them.

Having them home while working took a toll though. I think I juggled it all, but it was exhausting, and I am but a wisp of the person I used to be. I hope that in time, I can recover and that I can come out of this experience without debilitating germaphobia or food hoarding habits. Time will tell.

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2018: year in review

This year, 2018, was the best year of my life. I’m usually not one for absolutes, but 2018 was the year I finally got to meet my son, which has been the best and most transformative experience of my life. This time last year, I was newly pregnant, just starting to tell people, and blissfully snoozing my days away. I got to spend quite a bit of time in Idaho in the first part of the year reading, hibernating, and gestating. I also got to see the snow sculptures for the first time this year. T and I made a trip to Casper, WY. My pregnancy cravings were really kicking in at that point, and I spent long mornings eating at the hotel’s very decent continental breakfast and watching the news while T was working. I also got a delicious banana milkshake at Dairy Queen (I would eat much more junk like this in the third trimester).

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Instagram 2018 “Best Nine”

I spent the last months in my SLC apartment. For the last time, I watch the daffodil bulbs emerge from the ground (always so early!). I ran my daily laps around the park that I came to know and love so well. (I was able to easily run until I was 23-24 weeks pregnant.) In February, I announced my pregnancy to the world, and the world joined my celebration. I got the 20 week anatomy scan and saw my baby for the first time. I flew to Kansas City, Missouri for a work conference. I was still barely showing then.

After months (years really) of searching, I finally found a house and bought it. Call it nesting, call it what you will, but I knew for sure that this house was right for me and haven’t regretted the purchase for one second. I like being in the house. I love the community. It’s right by Utah Lake. It feels completely idyllic to me and was my necessary “next step.”

Mom came to visit for a week and brought my nephew to Utah for the first time. It was a hectic trip (since I was in the middle of buying and updating a house), but I loved it. Thinking back nostalgically, the trip might’ve included the last time Graysen will ever jumped into my arms. He ran to me, and I lifted him up easily over my bump and into a hug, and my mom wondered out loud if I should be doing so much lifting.

Sadly, my grandma passed away unexpectedly in the spring, and I drove home for her funeral. Now nine months later, her death seems unreal to me. I still feel like I should go over for a visit and show her my new baby.

Following my trip to Oregon, I frantically updated and moved into my new house. T was a saint during this time, doing all of the painting and heavy lifting for me. I officially moved during the first week of my third trimester. Physically, I don’t recommend it. I was nesting and highly motivated in every other way though.

I returned to Oregon for Mother’s Day weekend and the baby shower of my dreams—pink and yellow, lots of flowers, friends, family, and all of the foods and sweet candies that I love. This was also the weekend that I got my maternity photos, and all of my family finally officially met T.

Once I returned to Utah, I put my nose to the ground to teach summer school (which was physically challenging, but a welcome distraction), continued unpacking, prepping the nursery, and lugging by increasingly heavy body around in the warm Utah summer.

I made my last trip to Idaho in early June and then spent most of the following month alone. I ate. I ate tremendous amounts of anything I wanted. I savored my last weeks, days, and hours of alone time—keenly aware that it might be years before I have such solitude again.

I began to relax and become increasingly ready on every level to give birth to my child, who now catapulted around my stomach in waves—comfortably, though. I was incredibly comfortable and deeply relaxed throughout my entire pregnancy.

Once summer school was over, I took long walks daily along the paved path by my house. People stopped and said things like “Any day now.” I felt supported in every way. I watched the birds, the plants, the animals. I walked slowly. It was the one thing I accomplished each day with devotion. Some days I would get too hot. I had mild Braxton Hicks contractions from 14 weeks forward. Some days I would feel strong. I no longer felt I could run. Nothing fit me anymore besides one or two giant shirts over a pair of cheap leggings. It’s possible that I have never been happier, and I certainly have never felt more blissful.

As my due date approached, I felt confident that I would go a week, or even two, past and told everyone to wait. But, much to my surprise, I ended up going into labor the day before my due date and giving birth the day after my due date. (The full details of that story to come.)

After an unexpected week in the hospital (for both me and baby), I spent a few weeks in Utah, with a lot of postpartum help from my mom. Then, I transitioned to Idaho.
In the fall, I returned to teaching and meetings (much of which could be done online and via video chat, thankfully, because I had (am having) a particularly slow and painful recovery and even short trips to campus left me sore, exhausted, and weirdly shaky and shaken.

Those first months were filled with daily urgent challenges, sleep deprivation, pride, love, and experiencing my new self as a mother. It’s a transition I’m still making, and the daily urgent challenges continue, although the pediatrician thinks things will even out soon. (I hope so!) That time included doctor appointments, prescriptions, pain, healing, learning how to eat a new diet—one that didn’t include the top eight allergens, or corn, oats, beans, cruciferous vegetables, and nightshades (tomatoes, potatoes), and what else? The list seems to go on. I’ve mostly subsisted on chicken, rice, and mild vegetables, like carrots. The bright side? I’ve lost all the baby weight! Everyone gets to complain about pregnancy and caring for a newborn, but if your baby does not have the colic, reflux, and severe eczema trifecta, and you complain, then I will want to punch you in your throat.

T worked and traveled quite a bit in the last months of the year, and I solo parented.

Mom’s birthday was another highlight. In November, she joined us in Utah for her 60th and my grandpa’s 80th combined birthday party. Being with her and having her support in caring for my baby is such a relief.

We spent Thanksgiving with family friends in Idaho. We made an impromptu trip to Oregon for Christmas, and that brings us up to date.

In 2018, there have been challenges so severe that I honestly think many people would not be able to handle them. But, it’s also been the very best year full of experiences that were deeply wanted and loved. In 2018 everything changed forever, and I was ready.

2016: the year in review

My 2016 “best nine” according to IG.

2016 was a whirlwind year. I loved. I worried. My heart shattered. I got sick. I figured some things out. I remembered “authentic self” stuff that has helped me re-engage with my values and interests. And so I got better at being me. I worried some more. I got better. I loved.

Now, as with most December 31sts, I feel quieter, more restful, more peaceful than celebratory, or loud, or exciting. These are long, cold days. As a species I think we’re supposed to be lying low, eating root vegetables, and conserving energy to get through winter. Still, in a little while, I’ll probably pull on my giant fuzzy snow boots and be with the smiling, happy people.

In 2015 I traveled. I felt blocked creatively, and so to occupy myself, I tried to say yes to all of the people I loved, and even liked, and ended up making a few long road trips and even made a solo detour on a trip to visit my best friend and ended up seeing more of the Oregon coast than I’d ever seen before and felt small next to the tsunami warnings and did wheel pose in the warm sand with my mom, whom I love so much.

I felt like my urgent travel mode was coming to an end in 2016, but I still ended up traveling a lot. I flew to Louisiana. In February, I road tripped back to Utah through Texas, New Mexico, and Colorado (in the snow!). Then I flew to Houston for a conference that ended up being a good bonding experience with my colleagues, even though I was also really emotionally raw during that trip. I made a quick trip home for my nephew’s birthday (a date I rarely get to make because of my work schedule). Later in the month, I attended another conference in Atlanta. The conference was great, but the trip felt a little solitary. When school finished up, I took off to the high mountains of Idaho, and then made my annual trip to Oregon, came back to Idaho, and then I did another quick trip to Utah.

Before school started, I road tripped to Phoenix by way of the Grand Canyon (a first for me!), Flagstaff and Sedona. In Phoenix I ate some of the best pizza of my life, drove on to the Saguaro National Park outside of Tucson, where I had last been 15 years earlier on my way to a school trip to Mexico. That trip, and the saguaros, left an indelible mark on my psyche, and my return to them did not disappoint. After having my face melted off by a lovely little jazz quartet, I went on to Las Vegas, where I ate at the Peppermill because it’s iconic, and I had recently seen Jerry Seinfeld interview George Wallace there for his show.

After school started, I did a quick long weekend in Seattle to visit the loveliest of people, where I felt the humid, highly oxygenated air wash over me, and after that I went back to Las Vegas for a nice little conference that also felt quite solitary, and after that I went to San Diego for another conference, but this time I also got to walk along the warm California beach and see some of the city and just detoured (quite) a bit in general.

So, there was a lot of travel, and I was grateful for the good company I was able to keep, and I felt highly motivated at times, editing, grading, book reviewing, and proposing all manor of scholarly work. I also rested. I ate tomatoes and zucchini that I grew myself. I knitted, and I read, and I put seeds out for the birds. There’s more of course, but for now, this is probably all I need to say about 2016.