I must have put on twenty pounds this Christmas break.

So did he.

In the span of a little over a week,
the two of us not-so-spring chickens took our middle-aged selves,
our three kids under the age of nine
and our pandemic fatigue
on a vacation.

We visited

outdoor restaurant, after outdoor restaurant,

charcuterie plate after charcuterie plate,

ribeye after ribeye,

french fry after french fry,

and ice cream shop after ice cream shop.

And, also, since I ain't being coy,

alcoholic beverage after alcoholic beverage.

And now, on this New Year's Eve, we're both heading into what we hope will be a

better,

more fruitful,

more relaxing,

less scary and confusing,

more normal 2021,

up in weight,

up in guilt,

slightly puffier,

and still drained from very odd year that was 2020,

wondering if we'll be able to pull off the miracle that is

entering a new year,

while a global health pandemic still lingers,

while masking up and social distancing are still very much important,

without the kids returning to in-person learning,

without returning to an office,

without a return to kids' youth sports and dance and large gatherings,

and making it better than the one before.

Making ourselves better than who we were all 365 days prior.

You know,

I'm not one for resolutions. Never really have been.
Because I've always felt that if you're someone who is continually seeking self-betterment, then there is no need to

shout your goals from the rooftops,

put a time stamp on them,

give 'em a deadline,

or beat the mental crap out of yourself if/when you don't reach them (promptly or ever).

So, this year, all I'm doing is assigning myself the job of aiming to be a prime example of a typical imperfect human who wants nothing more than to improve but offers herself nothing but grace as she attempts such a feat.

And I’m gonna extend that same grace to every person I know or come across.

2021 is the year we tell ourselves and others,

I love you, no matter what.

No matter a pandemic,

a few (or many pounds),

or a mental breakdown or two or five.

So what you funked and gorged your way through 2020 --

you made it through, and that's something to freakin' celebrate.