Dear 2019,

We meet again. Well, not exactly, but I’ve met others like you. Thirty-three others, actually. You were all basically the same, luring me in with your promises of glad tidings, new beginnings, and all the fitness. This year, I want you to know that I’m throwing up the white flag in advance. You win. Kind of.

I know that no matter what I say, I’ll never hop on that Whole 30 train. I’m happy in the station browsing articles about it on Pinterest.

I won’t give up caffeine. I won’t even cut back. I’m not sorry.

I’ll eat chocolate at 12:01 a.m. on January 1st. It has antioxidants, OK?

I’ll probably still be late to most places. No, I will definitely still be late most places.

My car will still look like I recently went dumpster-diving when I roll up to school drop-off.

I’ve tried kale and I’m over it. (Though with the current romaine crisis, I may need to reconsider.)

Eight hours of sleep a night just isn’t happening with the kids around. Yes, yes, I could go to bed earlier, but life is about choices and sometimes I need to choose watching Netflix. For my mental health. You get it.

So here’s the deal: you can have the win over these things. It’s OK. I’m not mad. But whoa there, 2019 . . . don’t do a victory dance yet. There are far more valuable areas of my life where I’m planning for success. I don’t know what you hold, but if you’re like your predecessors, there will be some twists and turns. There will be bad days, okayish days, and some days filled with absolute joy. Regardless of what is to come, I’m ready for you. Throw it all at me, because this year . . . 

I’m standing on the reality that I have a God who has never failed me yet and isn’t about to start.

I’m making friendships a priority because they are essential to thriving in the day-to-day moments of life. Not to mention my girlfriends are the absolute best, just sayin’.

I’m putting down my phone and picking up my kids more. And while I’m at it, we are going to laugh harder than we ever have before.

I’m prioritizing my marriage, even in the chaos of life with littles. No more leftovers for my hubby (figuratively speaking, of course; he’s still eating chili for four days straight, let’s be real).

I will laugh, I will cry, I will feel all.of.the.things. And I will survive, even thrive, until your cousin 2020 rolls around and I make the same deal with her.

So you can have the Pinterest fails, diet fails, and Beachbody fails. You were going to have them anyway.

I’m keeping the people, though.

I’m keeping the relationships, the laughter, the fellowship, the tears, the celebrations, and the everyday moments made up of love. And I’m sticking close to the God who loves me and blessed my life with every single one of them.

Let’s do this, 2019.