After the train wreck that is often referred to as 2012, I vowed to make 2013 my year.
It started off with the best of intentions: I turned 40 in January and resolved to finally–once and for all–finish writing my novel. The months rolled by, summer arrived, and I’d done it. I wrote an mf’ing book! I can’t tell you how amazing it felt to attend my second sci-fi fantasy writers meeting and announce that I’d finished my manuscript. Kudus flew in from across the globe
, champagne flowed in excess! Only, not really. A lot of my friends and family stepped forward with support and congratulations, some weren’t quite so interested. But that’s life and I don’t get to choose what’s important to other people. In the end, I still wrote a damn book. Major life achievement unlocked!
1. I make faces when I’m alone 2. In 2013 we all enjoyed plenty of sleep 3. FYIIAB at ApolloCon 4. The bound and printed copy of my 1st draft 5. Senior prom 6. We grew food 7. My mum’s first trip to Vegas 8. There’s a baby in me 9. I was too lazy to wear makeup throughout most of 2013
Other things happened over the course of those months. Most of which were not worthy of celebration. Sadness
, loss, the shadier side of life. My little family persevered, because if we’ve learned anything over the past few years, it’s that we have each other and together we urge ourselves onward. Then something completely unexpected happened. Like, mind-blowing, change the course of everything, which way is up or down
, unexpected. On July 1st/4th weekend (you can’t take the Canada out of the girl, yo), I found out I was pregnant.
*queue curious mix of ominously celebratory music*
I know we live in the future where having a baby at 40 is no big deal. I’m part of the generation that pushed starting a family firmly into middle age
, but still… we’re talking about having a baby at 40, right as you’re about to toss a pre-existing, 18-year-old baby bird, kicking and flailing, into the world. I’m laying a new egg right as I’m about to empty the nest. Is there a name for this phenomenon? I have no idea. I just know that after four months of the uncertainty that comes with finding out you’re pregnant at 40
, shit got real. We’re having another baby. In our 40s. While our first child navigates the world of community college. Because that’s what normal people do, right?
Once again, kudos flew in from across the globe and champagne sparkling grape juice flowed in excess. Only
, again, not really. Plenty of people were thrilled for us (first and foremost, my mum and our daughter), but just like the news of my completed novel, some people just weren’t feeling it. Again, I had to remind myself that I can’t control what other people think, or feel, or even celebrate. Just like my novel, this new chapter in my life is happening–whether or not people choose to give a shit. Mark 2013 on your calendars as the year I finally learned to accept (or maybe remember) this lesson.
2014 probably isn’t going to be my year, but it will be my bitch. I plan to own this year
, harness its wild potential and ride it like a freakin’ pony across the pages of the calendar. Some days I might be doing it in a state of utter sleep deprivation with a baby latched to my tit
, other days I might be flinging tears of joy and/or sadness from my eyes. Regardless. This year better watch out, because I am Dusty and I’m coming for it.
