This time last year, I sat on our friends’ Shannon and Laura’s couch, eating Chinese takeout, a little depressed at the realization that we would not be having a 2011 baby. And, barring an extremely unlikely two-hour labor, we wouldn’t be having the first baby of the new year, either. We hadn’t yet reached our “due” date, but, as it usually happens in later pregnancy, we were hopeful that our baby was ready to just get the show on the road already. (Of course, we were blissfully unaware that our baby boy would make a fashionably late arrival 25 days into 2012.)
Still, as I watched the ball drop with a case of heartburn (thanks, sweet and sour chicken) and an elbow? knee? in the ribs, I knew 2012 would be a great year. The best, maybe.
It was the year I became “Mama” and Matthew became “Daddy.” The year we made friends with some amazing people who were also going through this new parent thing. The year of play dates. The year of shifting priorities. Dirty diapers. Tons of laughs. Patience. Learning. On more than one occasion, the year of eating my words. The year of milestones. The year my job title changed to “Mama,” while “Photographer” took a back seat. The year of simplifying. Of letting go. And acceptance. The year of absolutely irreplaceable memories. And more love than I could ever imagine.
Oh, 2012. You were a great year. The best, for sure.
The arrival of 2013 will be celebrated a little differently. Matthew and Augustus will most definitely be sleeping. I may or may not be. If I’m awake, I’ll likely lean over to kiss Augustus on the forehead and marvel at his sweet face. But the unceremonious arrival doesn’t mean there won’t be things to celebrate in 2013. I anticipate that it, too, will be a great year. Maybe even the best. :)