One of the few New Years traditions I love is choosing a word for the upcoming year, an intention summed up concisely. The rub for me is that every year I’ve tried to suggest my own, the universe comes skidding in with a large club, aggressively warning “that’s not it” and sending me in a wildly different direction. So maybe this year, it makes sense to try a word for the year in review.

This past year, that word was “growth.” Lest you romanticize it, I mean the kind of messy growth that comes when innocent kids crash into early stages of puberty. I also mean when able-bodied adults descend into the throes of middle age. And dear god help us, in our household, I mean when that all happens at once, under one roof.

My perimenopausal body is at war with me. It feels like my lifelong teammate went to play for our rival team, and I’m spending this season trying to coax her back with every tool in my duffel bag – pharmaceuticals, supplements, lifestyle changes, exercise, tears, angry outbursts, bigger waistbands, new sweatsuits, kind words, and all out desperate pleas of “remember how nice it was to win together?!” So far, she’s unconvinced. I’ll keep working on her.

My job of nine years just ended, and I’m learning how to spin up my own business in tiny cracks of time between managing a family, graduate school, and multiple jobs. It’s exciting. It’s also a heavy lift, which I’m told is recommended for combating perimenopause but annoyingly, I don’t think it’s the right kind of lifting.

I’m back at college with a bunch of 20-somethings, which simultaneously makes me feel old as dirt and wise beyond my substantial (in comparison) years. It’s requiring some mind-bending time management skills and a whole lot of practice to end perfectionist tendencies, but it’s also showing me I’m not too old to learn new things, rewire, and create a next chapter that’s beautiful and really fun.

My husband made a career move this Spring that abruptly changed his course, which also opened the door to me returning to school without a massive financial shockwave. That locked him into splitting more of the invisible family management tasks that have been mostly mine over the past decade. He’s handled it with grace and generosity, which has made me rethink my mom martyr mindset. Turns out I’m not the only one that could do and juggle and manage and worry about all the things. We’re stronger partners with a better connection because of this shift. I didn’t see that one coming, and it was a really wonderful surprise.

I feel like my middle schooler is at war with me. In truth, he’s at war with absolutely everything. I know it’s not personal, but it couldn’t feel MORE personal. I’m working on finding ways to connect with him on his terms, loosen my control-freak tendencies, and find a balance between advocating for him and letting him make his own choices, especially when it comes to school where he’s wired very differently than me and sees it as far less of a priority. I have to admit, he makes some solid points when I’m actually listening to him instead of doom-spiraling in my own brain. He’s truly helped me on my own revitalized journey as a student, shining a harsh spotlight on the moments when my anxiety or perfectionism is getting in my way unnecessarily.

My fourth grader is currently coasting, needing almost nothing from me besides lots of snacks, rides, and reminders to use appropriate language, suspend obsessive playing of video games, and occasionally shower. This feels both freeing and suffocating. How have we arrived here so soon? It’s so cool to see him figuring things out, leveraging his strengths, and confidently marching to his own beat. Even so, I miss him looking to me and leaning on me.

Our advanced-age dog is literally pissing all over the life we’ve created. Her kidneys are jacked at the ripe ol’ age of 15, so there’s no pill to fix this problem. Only lots of limited pee management techniques, laundry (we have washable doggy diapers now; déjà vu from the infant years, but with a tail hole now), and irritated resignation remain. We are so lucky to have this good girl around for however long she’s willing to give us, and I’m also really grossed out. I’m sitting with it all, and also in it all. (I understand if you want to hold off on a visit to our house until we’ve replaced all our furniture and had a deep clean.)

My husband and I are feeling called to consider a home that is not our current one. Where the hell do you start with that when considering all of the above? For now, we’re working on some small house updates that are light on the budget and high on visual impact, and I’m also constantly adding to our spreadsheet of location prospects. Intrigued to see where we go there, even if we ultimately stay put. We shall see.

All in all, when I think of where we were a year ago, I can’t believe how far we’ve come. It still doesn’t feel easy, but it feels hopeful. It’s messy as hell, but we’ve got another year of experience wading through some shit. This is the advantage of reflection. We get to take all of our experiences, newfound wisdom, and weight training gains and see the strength in it all.

Who knows what this new year has in store, but what I do know is that all this growth means we’ve never been better trained for whatever’s ahead.

I’m curious. What would your word in review be? Or, should you dare to tempt fate, what’s your word for the upcoming year? Can’t wait to hear!