The start of a new year is always marketed as a “fresh start.” A blank slate, wiped clean, ready for new challenges and goals. People write down their resolutions, map out their plans, and share their ideas for accountability. I love the idea of individuals striving to be the best versions of themselves. I admire those who are ready to make positive changes. And I am always there to offer support however I can.
But in this current phase of my own life—parenting two young children—I’ve decided to be realistic about my aspirations for the new year as I (like many parents of young children) am gearing up for another year of interruptions.
You see, I could sit down to journal during nap time today, putting pen to paper with my dreams for this year, but my toddler might wake up. I could dive into writing a long reflection piece about who I’ll strive to be over the next 12 months, but my toddler might wake up.
I could call a friend to verbally process all of the triumphs and tribulations of this past year, but my toddler might wake up. I could craft an eloquent metaphor to describe the importance of ambition, but my toddler might wake up.
For in this season of parenting young children, there are so many interruptions. Some interruptions are frustrating. A toddler’s burning questions during church, a baby’s urgent cry, a mountain of dirty laundry, a grocery store meltdown, a call from the pediatrician. The plan for the day is interrupted by an unforeseen illness, a diaper blowout, a missed nap opportunity, or spilled milk all over the car seat. The plan for the week is interrupted by a rough night’s sleep, a bad bout of teething, or an unexpected trip to urgent care.
And along with the frustrating ones, there are interruptions that surprise us. Interruptions that create a bit of magic in the mundane scenes, snippets of connection gifted to us from our kids. A stressful car ride is interrupted with uncontrollable giggles from the backseat. A walk to the post office is interrupted by the spontaneous joy of watching a caterpillar scoot along the sidewalk. A routine Tuesday night is interrupted by an impromptu living room dance party. An afternoon of yard work is interrupted by shrieks of glee from two toddlers jumping into a pile of leaves. A weekend grind of chores is interrupted by a hilarious moment of my 2-year-old putting my 4-year-old’s clean underwear on his head.
So, my only resolution for this year is to embrace each interruption for what it can teach me. There is power in realizing that how we respond can give us the strength to make it through each day. There is power in remembering that interruptions can be a golden opportunity to ground us, humble us, and inspire us.
A sick day at home can lead to extra snuggles and one-on-one bonding time. A canceled trip to the zoo can lead to a conversation about navigating feelings of disappointment. An impromptu trip to the hardware store can lead to a scavenger hunt among the aisles and a chance to practice social interaction. A moment of tears at the library can lead to a heartfelt conversation with a stranger, likely with another mother who’s been there and offers a helpful smile.
Let’s accept that this season of parenthood is one of unpredictability, but also one of growth. We may not have time for big goals or grandiose plans in 2025. But we can help create the best versions of ourselves with our reactions to whatever life may throw at us. We can help foster the best versions of our children by showing them how to embrace both the hard obstacles and the surprisingly wonderful detours.
So here’s to another year of messy and beautiful parenthood. Here’s to another year of interruptions. Bring it on.