Bye, 2022
You were a tough old gal.
My hands are like sandpaper. I don’t even mean that as a poetic metaphor; they actually look and feel like sandpaper. They make a spine tingling sound and feeling when I pick up a fresh diaper or pull up a fuzzy blanket, as if my finger pads had velcro glued to them. I feel badly as I massage lotion into my baby’s new skin after her bath, apologizing for the extra exfoliation she surely doesn’t need.
They’re peeling, flaking, and littered with cuts, slices, and gashes. No one uses their hands more than a mother. Baths, wipes, sanitizer spray, dishes, bottles, laundry and more dishes erode the skin on an hourly basis. The cold, dry winter air pushes precarious skin over the edge.
My hands hurt. Oxyclean stain remover seeps into a cut, the knuckle gash gets bumped opening the trash drawer. Slathering thick gloves of Aquaphor before bed is a futile gesture.
As I look back at 2022, my hands feel like an appropriate representation of one of the most physically demanding years I’ve ever had. Clearly, it shows in my new grey hairs, stretched out stomach, and of course my hands, with their veins, sun spots and beat up cuticles. The whole year felt like one tiny, aggravating ouchie after another. The discomfort of the end of pregnancy, labor and delivery, breastfeeding, sleep deprivation, carrying a baby 70% of the time, picking a toddler up and down, and up and down, battling his 4am wake ups for two months straight. House construction that left us displaced for over a month. No maternity leave. All work. Always on. One responsibility after another. No breaks ever. Not a one. Good riddance 2022, I think!
That’s what everyone is saying on social media. “Bye you little fucker of a year!” Ok, maybe no one said exactly that, but you get the idea. I feel like ever since 2016, the last few moments of the year are a collective roast on the previous 365 days. No one can ever wait to move on. But, was every year really that bad? (Yes, 2020 was actually the worst, and I do know some people who had an equally aggravating 2022.)
While my everyday undoubtedly felt like an unwavering blur of aches, pains, and bleary eyed exhaustion, if I zoom out and just look at the big tentpole moments, they were exceedingly spectacular.
1.) I gave birth to a new person!
Being an unplanned pregnancy, it took me quite a bit of time to adjust to the idea of her even existing––even once she was in my arms. The transition to two children was overwhelming for me. She wasn’t a content baby in her early months, demanding every ounce of myself around the clock, which was already feeling more beaten and divided than ever before.
But, now as the year comes to a close, she’s blossomed into this fun little creature who walks and plays and giggles, and plays games. She’s sweet, affectionate, and is adorably obsessed with cats. I’m starting to forget life before her, which makes me irreconcilably sad, but also relieved to let go of a past that will never again exist.
It’s still so hard to have two small children, but today it is manageable. A few months ago, I could not say the same.
2.) I built a new kitchen.*
*Ok so we hired professionals to do it. My husband and I survived our third major house construction project, which was the most intense of them all, both because it severely disrupted our daily life after nine months in permit purgatory––and we did it with a three month old and a two year old. But, we did it. And our new kitchen is beautiful. My weathered hands no longer need to be washed in what was surely a corner sink sent straight from hell.
We both learned so much about home renovations and keeping our shit together during a trying time. It is so damn rewarding to walk into our kitchen every day and say, “I can’t believe this is ours, and we made it happen.”
I am so immensely proud of us for seeing potential in our little house that needed some TLC, building it into a home one small project and citrus tree replacement at a time.
3.) I started graduate school.
There is never a convenient time to make a big life pivot, but I think I picked a particularly difficult season to expand my intellectual horizons and step onto the path of a career transition. Though it seems like a lot of unnecessary pressure, stress, and work, I hope you can believe me when I say, it’s one of the biggest sources of release and joy. Working toward a meaningful purpose and passion, no matter how long the road may be, is how I––a crazy person––do self care.
4.) I finally got a full time job.
Being a freelancer was exactly what I needed for the past three years as I navigated new parenthood and a pandemic. It taught me so much about professional relationships, time management, and how to demand what you deserve. But, right now I need a professional home where I can focus my attention and work with the support of a team. After so many maybe potential jobs dangled in front of me for the past couple years, it feels like all that waiting was for a reason. I found a great company and role where I am allowed to be excellent at what I do.
Yet, even with all this positive change and growth, all I can seem to focus on are my beat up hands and my run down mind––the everyday, exhausting soundtrack that played in the background of my entire year. I feel compelled to shake my flakey fists and join in the internet chorus to sing, “Good riddance, 2022, you little bitch!” But, I know I cannot. It was a tough year, but it was also a very good year.
And, it wouldn’t have been very good had it not been very tough. All those big, wonderful, beautiful moments and achievements don’t just happen. Whether it be a family, home, career, or community, the acts of growing and building are labors of love. Making life happen takes a tremendous amount of effort. It cracks your hands, breaks your spirit, and makes you feel so small, until suddenly it all amounts to something larger than life. I guess, no pain, no gain? I don’t know why I try to write flowery expressions of my feelings when there’s usually an equally effective idiom.
2022 was, perhaps, my most challenging yet. But, it was also the most rewarding. I am leaving this year simultaneously depleted of energy and filled to the brim with pride. And, it feels good enough that I’m ready to maybe do it again next year, but I am going to need an all expenses paid vacation in there somewhere 😎 🏖.
Seconding everyone else — this is great, you're great.
AN INCREDIBLE HEATHER YEAR!!!