2019 in Words
There are many habits of the toddler stage I hope recede into the dark corners of my mind when we are all said and done with this stage. But there is a simple moment I want to keep in my heart forever.
As a new talker, Leo has an ever increasing vocabulary, but a very limited sound repertoire. Thus, many words, while to him are distinct and unique, to my foreign listening ears all sounds the same. Many of our conversations, therefore, go like this:
“Blah blah.”
“Do you want more banana?”
“No.” Aggressive shaking of head and furrowed brow. There is nothing lost in translation here. No means no.
“Do you want to get down?”
“No.”
“Do you want milk?”
“No!” Frustration is peaking. I brace for melt down.
“Do you want more bread?”
And that's when it happens. The moment I finally land upon the right word, his one specific desire (bread, always bread; don't know why I didn't lead with this,) and his eyes lights up in so much relieved joy and it is as if his smile cannot be contained on his face as he breathes out a resounding and clear YEAH!—this is that moment. This is that memory, the one I hope I never forget.
For nothing matches the grin and sigh of relief of an understood child.
Yes that's it! he might say if he could. You get me! You understand! But he can't say this so he just beams a beautiful reflection of relief and joy.
I recognize this feeling—of being seen, of being heard, of being known.
This feeling is why I write.
There is this funny thing that happens as a writer where everything you see and do and hear around you becomes writing material. I can't seem to escape it. The way he moves his body, the little conversation we have in the car, the simplest most mundane tasks we perform every day. Each of these tiny moments, when I look at it just right, becomes a lesson, a lesson I need to get down in words.
Sometimes it takes me awhile to get to that lesson. It often takes many attempts before the awareness surfaces. But when it does, I feel like a toddler who just got the bread she wanted.
Yes that's it! I say to myself. You get it! You understand! The relief, the joy—its an intoxicating feeling.
I often say I write for me. I write the things I need to hear. This is always true.
But I also recognize that my words are for you, too. And my wish for you is that through my words, you find some of this relieved joy, too. This feeling of being seen, being heard, being known—I want this for you, too, dear readers.
This is why I write. For me. For you. For that shared feeling of recognition. I am equal parts humbled and relieved and proud to share these words with you. It's not bread, but it's still pretty good.
I am a forever fan of year end reflections. I believe in growth and celebration and looking back to march forward is the smartest way to do this. But I also require a long runway for this process. My new year doesn't necessarily start on the first. This means I take a cue from Mary in the Christmas story and I ponder in my heart for most of December. Then once things quiet down in January and the glitter and confetti swept clean, my head is more clear and prepared for reflection.
But I can tell you without any need for pondering or deep thoughts that my greatest strength and improvement this year was in my writing. It is an area of growth in which I am most proud. And I think the best place to begin with year end reflections is in a space of pride for our own development.
So I begin with reflections slowly today with 2019 in words, narrowed down to 19 because I need limits. These are my favorite moments of writing that gave me that YEAH! feeling this year. As always, I am grateful for you that you come alongside me as I share these words with you.
Gardening lessons teach us more than Gardening. This post represents two new things for me this year—my venture into a large vegetable garden, and my venture as a regular contributor for Twin Cities Mom Collective.
On Fall Leaves, baby hairs and relief Two essays I mulled around for quite awhile until just the right aha moment to pull them together.
An introverts holiday survival guide This resonated with many, an example of being seen, heard, and known.
Raise your mom game I have wanted to do this series for awhile and I am so glad I finally got it going. So technically this represents four different essays, with more to come..
Let them be little This one came together on a visit to the park, and written the moment I returned.
When I unhook them And this one came together on a bike ride to the coffee shop and written the moment I parked my bike. I love these kinds of inspirations in writing.
Lessons on Beginning I learned this winter/spring/summer soon to be fall. Technically this is three, but I throughly enjoy this series of revisiting my word of the year through lessons learned.
Just one more mile The aha moments I have whilst running.
Acknowledgements to a mother writer My favorite practice of documenting my efforts.
I am a writer I said it. A bold move.
He is one Words to honor my last baby.
On going slow
On anxiety
On the blessing of goodbye - Also my first attempt at poetry. It was fun. I want to do more.
On abundance
On Patience
There are a few other things I wrote in2019 that I love but they will all be published in 2020. What an exciting way to enter into a new year—already with the anticipation of efforts soon to be accomplished.
A toast to many more moments of relieved joy through writing in the New Year!
Design credit to phoenixfeatherscalligraphy for C+C, 2019
This post was written as part of a blog hop with Exhale—an online community of women pursuing creativity alongside motherhood, led by the writing team behind Coffee + Crumbs. Click here to read the next post in this series “2019.”