Christmas is over, New Years is coming, my kids’ teachers have been on strike for over a month and we’re waiting to hear if the union teachers are going to finally accept a deal. Today should be spent tidying the Nerf bullets and pine needles scattered across my floors, vacuuming up the goldfish crackers that are ground into the boys’ bedroom carpet, and scrubbing the long-ignored shower walls. 

Should be. 

Instead I’m tucked away in a busy Starbucks with an off-season holiday drink (am I allowed to drink a Pumpkin Spice Latte during the Christmas season?). I can’t remember the last time I felt like I could actually write, that I actually had something to say. I’ve had one topic on my mind for the last 18 months, probably since I picked up The Lazy Genius Way by Kendra Adachi. Reading that book, in one sense, was the end of my blog as I knew it. As I was reading it, I knew that it encapsulated what I had been trying to ‘accomplish’ with my writing here. It may not be apparent to long-time readers (and certainly not if this is your first visit), but I was using this space to sort through how to make my life easier. I began by chronicling my movement through my Bucket List. I wanted to write about working towards my goals, growing, learning, failing, and failing forward. I wanted to show the long game. I also wanted to figure out how to make my life a little less of a mess. How do I get anything done with kids? With a family? With aspirations and goals? I wrote about writing, building habits, and time management all in hopes to streamline my life and be able to reach my goals.

Having kids really threw a wrench in my writing. As you can see from my post history, after having my second (Nov, 2016) the writing decreased rapidly, which makes sense and I was ok it. I started working out, which was huge for me, and was still moving towards “a better me.” I wrote nothing in 2019, having had my 3rd boy in May of that year. I was overwhelmed with three kids 4.5 and under. The first year felt like running a twelve month marathon while herding cats during a cyclone. But somewhere that year, I found Kendra. Blessed Mother Kendra. She taught me about how to let go of what didn’t matter, and hold on to what did. Her 13 Lazy Genius Principles helped me grow in confidence in bringing some order to the chaos of my home. The other revelation that brought a lot of clarity was investigating ADHD for myself. So far, though I’m waiting for the new year to get an official assessment, it felt like the most reasonable explanation for some of the reasons I felt like my life was chaos. Having kids is a lot. Having 3 boys feels crazy for me (though I obviously love them each incredibly). 

Needless to say, when each day felt like I was running and never catching my breath, everything else was put on the back burner. I was a mom and wife, I went back to work, and crocheted. That was my life. Not a bad one, but not exactly living my best! life! now! 

2023 was different. I started reading again. I hadn’t read novels really in years. I was actually being afraid of novels for fear of feeling sad (literally, I was terrified of feelings. Life was already felt like so much, why would I add second-hand sadness or sorrow because of a fake person or story?). 

But Kendra. (This was not meant to be a love letter to her, but here we are). 

At the end of December last year, she released a podcast episode about how she read 120 books last year. I was inspired! She also has talked about her “book words.” She has figured out what words describe the books she always likes, so she knows how to know what books to pick and what to leave. After reading a few “gentle” books (like some of the Anne of Green Gables series), I decided I would stick to that stuff first. Then, read Little Women. I caught feelings. I felt sad, a little heartbroken, even. But you know what? It was ok. Slowly, I grew in my literary courage (though, to be sure, I was sticking to Young Adult and other ‘safe’ types of things. I realized I didn’t have to read great literature for it to ‘count’; I could read whatever I wanted. 

I started reading before bed. I found LibriVox and started listening to audiobooks while crocheting in the evening, rather than watching TV the whole time. I started noticing patterns in my reading: sometimes I’d get to a tough part about half-way through or 60%, but Learned to push through and then I’d be close enough to the end be motivated to break through the finish line. I read 3 books in January and probably averaged that many each month until September. Then I read 8, followed by 6 in October, 12 in November, and 21 in December (so far). 

Reading this much has reignited my imagination. It’s reminded me how much I want to write, and honestly, it’s shown me how many authors are out there that are writing just OK books. Some are even writing books that I really enjoyed, read twice (Christmas “romcoms” anyone?), but few people have heard of. Even that is inspiring to me. 

So here I am, at the end of my Pumpkin Spice Latte, my parking about to expire along with my bladder. I’m proud of me for this year. A lot happened with my kids and husband and job, and after all of it I’m happy to say, I like me more and I feel like me more. 

Onward to 2024.