The story yet to be written.

"We will open the book. Its pages are blank. We are going to put words on them ourselves. The book is called opportunity and its first chapter is New Years Day."
-Edith Pierce


I like the look and feel of a brand new notebook or calendar, ripe with all the pages yet to fill and dates to scribble plans on. I feel inspired by the clean slate, all the possibilities. I have urges to hastily write, let the words flow freely on the clean pages, to begin, start anew. Yet the pen sits in my hand, the blank page suddenly sacred, scary, and the words locked inside my brain. Sometimes the idea to start fresh is more appealing than the actual process of doing so.

Like a new notebook, sometimes the new year feels similar to me. Maybe that's why I've never been big on resolutions. I'm a list-making, goal-oriented type of girl. I like to cross things off my lists. The idea of creating a list for the year and then never crossing the items off seems pointless to me. So, instead, I'm going to follow along the same avenue as last January and vow to approach this new year with a different attitude toward every day life. An attitude that allows the small moments to carry the same weight as the big ones. And to acknowledge and accept that every day isn't meant to be grand, many will attempt to drag you to your lowest points. But life isn't a series of celebratory big moments. It's the stuff in between--the small every day ones rich with frustration, excitement, anger, sadness, elation, irritation, exhaustion, humor--that truly make up the fabric of our lives.

I resolve to approach this new year like an open, unwritten book, the first chapter titled, "January." And I resolve to be okay with the messy pages soiled with spilled coffee and orange Cheetos smears. For, surely, those entries will be balanced with the pretty script detailing the perfect picnic or silly story or the wobbly, nearly illegible scribbles of a boy first learning to write.

Here's to a perfectly imperfect year in the rearview, and to the one off in the distance, that story yet to be written.

Before starting anew, I'd like to look back through some pages from 2014.


January.
Snow, basketball, art projects, and a pirate day.







February.
Monkeys, weekend getaway, and a holiday.

March.
Cousins, snow, puddles, more snow, and grandmas.









April.
Spring days, a wedding, and a holiday.

May.
End of a school year, camping, more camping, and a picnic.











June.
Yellowstone, shaved head, grandma, beach, and friends.










July.
A holiday, cousins, bonfires, potty training, river, and a mommy photo shoot

August.
Camping, a birthday, mommy photo shoot, and more camping.












September.
An apple orchard, river, mud, another school year, and another apple orchard.









October.
A birthday, a mommy photo shoot, a holiday, leaves, family, camping, and a pumpkin patch.

November.
A vacation, snow, mud, more snow, a holiday, and a family photo.











December.
Mud, a holiday, and another holiday.