So often we start out on January 1 with all these goals.

And then January 1 is… off. It’s still vacation. The first days of January we are in recovery mode. Recovery from gatherings, partying, weather, illness, family. We’re still traveling. Still easing back into routines. Still figuring out childcare and inboxes and sleep schedules. 

Which means that very often, during most of January, we end up feeling that we are already behind the eight ball.

My friend’s husband used to have a saying: “I’m hearing a lot about ____.”

He’d fill in the blank with someone’s name, and it was his gentle, yet direct way of saying: that person is taking up too much space in our lives, dontcha think?

I call this concept Squatters in the Penthouse.

The question isn’t “Do I have time?” It’s “Do I care enough to make it sacred?”

As with many life-altering phases I’ve gone through, I’ve apparently decided to (over-)share yet again. The messy, confounding, not often hilarious process of figuring out what’s happening in my body and my brain during this rich phase of life is now not just mine, but yours too. You’re welcome! 

A few months ago, I realized I’d developed a rather committed relationship with the New York Times crossword. And actually, it wasn’t just the crossword. There were the other games (except Spelling Bee…who even plays that?) and, of course, the news. 

A year ago I realized I was depressed. I had only been depressed—clinically depressed—once before in my life. In my first trimester of pregnancy, I went on Zoloft—and a few weeks later I was finally able to get out of bed, go back to work, and make it through the next seven months. Because I knew my body believes that hormonal changes are NOT my friend, I figured this depression was “the change.”