This time last year, I wrote an email that the dead of winter makes no sense for new beginnings. (Punchline: you don’t have to parent the way everyone tells you to, make your own rules.) It was on my mind because the yoga teacher talked about new goals for the new year.

This time last year, I started doing yoga. I got a monthly membership with unlimited classes, so to get my money’s worth, I went at least once a week but usually twice - walking 20 minutes each way. I started to exercise because I was pregnant (in the last 6 weeks of my pregnancy, I did yoga three times a week!) and because I needed tons of self care just to function at baseline level.

This time last year, I was entering survival mode. My hardest parenting season to date was just beginning.

Most days were spent waiting for them to end. I wasn’t depressed, and I didn’t need cleaning help. I was drowning under the needs of my three kids, each of whom was abnormally challenging in his own way. It felt like a game of whack-a-mole from hell. I dreaded their return on the bus and wondered daily why I bothered sending them to school, where they behaved perfectly and then came home to fall apart. They may as well stay home and be 50% normal for me. Then again, at least I got a break for a few hours (during which I did yoga).

This time last year, I read books that didn’t help. I contacted professionals - only some of them helped. I pursued evaluations and support, a process that shlepped until the end of the school year. (Actually, I only survived because I thought each day that salvation would come… I probably wouldn’t have made it if I’d known how long it would take to find solutions.)

This time last year, after a few enthusiastic months of throwing myself into my business because all my kids were finally in school for the first time, I came to the slow realization that it actually wouldn’t work in my real life. The business gurus I followed did not have kids, let alone three plus a fetus. There would be no “mompreneur” or “side hustling” for me after all. I didn’t have time or energy for it.

This time last year, I came down with a cough that would last two months and literally strain my intercostal muscles - which are between the ribs, if you didn’t either know. I couldn’t breathe or talk. Walking was painful. I threw up from coughing so hard.

This time last year, there was no shiny new start in sight for me. Looking back, it was actually the beginning of a long and dark and impossible winter. Figuratively; I can’t remember what the actual weather was like. Although it did end with the literal summer.

This year, we are all doing much better. Thanks for asking! Although in an ironic twist called “endless postpartum flare”, I haven’t been able to return to yoga yet.

This isn’t really a reflection of 2023. I was just reminded of it because of the time of year.

Sometimes you can’t turn over a new leaf. Sometimes everyone around you seems to be thriving and blossoming, and you’re frozen solid. Sometimes you need to hibernate or break down before you can stand back up.

If you’re in a bad season right now, know that there’s another one coming around the corner (eventually). It won’t last forever. Even the worst New York winter must give way eventually to spring. And the horrible Florida summers become snow-bird destinations a few months later.

If you’re hanging in there, keep on hanging on.

ps - if you want hand-holding or just validation, I have limited coaching spots available via Zoom (also available via the HCBS program in NY) - hit reply if you're interested.

*non-affiliate shoutout to Vessel Studios if you’re in Brooklyn! You should totally go.