I have several New Year’s Eve traditions that I’m quite fond of. One is thoroughly cleaning my house and smudging everything before midnight; I like to enter a new year with good energy and a spotless house.
Another tradition ois celebrating the new year early with Olive. I run her a hot bath with bubbles and candles and we drink sparkling apple juice out of champagne glasses while talking about our goals for the new year – all the things we’d like to learn and do and become.
The last tradition, however, has quickly become my favourite one and it’s only in its second year: New Year’s Eve yoga.
That title right there is Beyonce singing to 2013 on my behalf, and she’s telling it to just get the hell right out.
GET GONE, 2013!
In case I am not being clear – I was not sad to see 2013 go. This year was an experiment in many ways, and I come out of it having learned enough to not call it a failure, but I also learned that 13 is not my number. Not at all. For me 13 is black cats and walking under ladders, stepping on cracks and bad juju all ’round.
BUT. For once in my life, rather than bemoan popular traditions and do all in my power to buck them, I am going to wholeheartedly embrace them. Thus, this post. A 2013 retrospective on the first day of 2014. Our life in blog posts.
- Olive was the most adorable bear ever
- She tried her first food, loved it, and has been eating everything she could get her hands on ever since
- We began what I am now beginning to think of as our year in limbo
My little hoodlum.
- I vowed to dial back my iPhone use. This was…somewhat successful. A bit successful. Sort of successful! I’m better than I was I can quit when I want to I swear.
- I discovered that Adam and I are 70% compatible according to the Chinese zodiac. Who knew?
- I flexed my domestic muscles and baked gluten-free bread and it turned out hollow. Several times. Apparently it takes me several tries, and approximately $800 of various gluten-free flours for me to learn a lesson.
- I ruminated (as one does on ones Internet blog) about growing older, and Olive growing older, and the passage of time and what does it all mean?
- I blogged about Terracycle, my favourite organization that recycles everything from Tassimo pods to flip flips to cigarette butts.
- I hid behind a chair and ate poutine. Yep. Sounds about right.
- We were swarmed by bees. BEES! Did you know Adam was deathly afraid of bees? Me neither.
- You guys helped me pick an author photo from the 800+ glamour photos I had done a few years ago.
Just a lady walking her Llama. What.
- We acted like real live adult parents and opened Olive an RESP. And she started signing! (Aside: Does anyone else always read that as SINGING? Whenever I write about signing I always wonder if there are a contingent of people out there baffled that I am so excited about my daughter’s ability to sing different words. No? Just me?)
- Olive took her first flight and we went to Ontario. Adam and Granddaddy futzed around with power tools and sharp objects, both emerging miraculously unscathed.
- My favourite baby turned one. we had a party for her and I cried and ate chocolate cake.
- I shared doubts about motherhood
- Family Halloween costume time! (I don’t even know who I am anymore.)
- I left Olive overnight for the first time and, ironically, got less sleep than usual.
- I went viral. Adam called it a virus. As in “Madeleine has been a virus for three days!” That’s almost worse than when he pronounces the nonexistent “x” in “espresso”. No. No, I wake that back. “Expresso” is worse.
- I went back to work
- We celebrated Olive’s second Christmas and I haven’t even really written about it yet, but here are a few pictures.