How do you expect me to respond to this?

I’ve pretty much ignored New Years the last few years. I have a 4-year-old—getting dressed up and staying out past midnight seems as farfetched as commuting on a unicorn to my job as a taste tester at the wine and cheese factory—but that’s not really the reason for my indifference. As I get older, I realize it’s just so arbitrary. As if time doesn’t pass every day. As if you can’t decide to make better choices on any given morning. “New Year, New You” is just about the dumbest phrase out there.

That being said, I do have a tiny resolution this year: I'm going to try and revive the blog. Because I’ve realized that, as my family becomes more successful and has more choices, I’ve engineered my life in such a way that I’m pretty isolated from…everything and everyone. And the openness with which I wrote when I was in my 20s just isn’t there anymore. Some of it is realizing that people probably don’t care about the small, weird things that happen to me; some of it is life experiences resulting in my putting up a “it’s none of your business” kind of shield. But I miss being open. And I'm a little lonely. Maybe a lot lonely.

So here goes—a few things about me and my life:

• My kid has the best laugh in the entire world. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t drive me crazy on a daily basis. 
• I miss singing and playing the piano. Most times when I start to do either, the above-mentioned kid sighs loudly and tells me to stop. It’s not great for the ego. 
• I worry about my parents. A lot. 
• I drink my wine from a box. Probably too much of it. 
• My husband is supportive and wonderful (even if he talks about running too much. But he’s running a marathon in a couple of weeks, so who could blame him?). 

So tonight, I'll probably eat some pizza, drink some wine, and go to bed around 10. And tomorrow it will be 2019. Cheers to openness and kindness in the new year.