I started following some random guy on Instagram this morning – a self-proclaimed “Seattle explorer” – and I couldn’t stop crying while looking through his pictures.

That’s basically how 2012 went. At least the last half of it – the half after our trip to Seattle – and let’s be real, that’s the only half I remember.

And while recaps are super fun (because who doesn’t love re-hearing about my first run-in with food poisoning or about the summer that I became an official soccer mom or about how I can’t stop giving out my phone number to random moms at parks like a total creep or about Seattllllle), if you’re my friend on Facebook or you follow me on Twitter, you already know all that along with way more than you probably care to. If we’re friends in real life and you can stomach my children drinking ketchup while we’re out to eat or I text you every time I Google a horrible disease that I’m sure to have or I call you when I’m ready to dropkick my husband or run far, far away from my crazy babies, I’m so so so sorry. But thank you x infinity.

Speaking of my children, I would never run too far away. At least not without coming back a couple of hours later and smelling like coffee. However if I could actually, physically dropkick my husband, I would probably do that on occasion. Only because I know that he would recover just fine and still love me.

And that he most likely feels the same way about his wife from time to time. (Yes, me. Hard to believe, I know.)

As far as resolutions are concerned, I plan on drinking more water. And Googling less terrifying things.

Here’s to the new year! May yours be super rad and stuff.


One thought on “twenty-twelve

  1. Pingback: disorderly digits | loud and out of key

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