The Paper Dart
An ode to creativity and distraction

“I Wish You Happiness,” And Other Hopes for 2021

When I sat down to reflect on the new year, I first considered writing a list of wishes I have for my daughter in the new year. She will be turning four in 2021, and has recently really blossomed into a real, tiny human, with her own goals, passions, and brand of stubbornness.

But as I started writing that list, I realized that all the things I wanted for her to experience in the coming year were really just things I wanted for myself. Because when it comes down to it, my daughter will spend most of the coming year playing, fighting, making mistakes, making up, and blindly testing the world around her, and very little of it intentionality reflecting on how she can incorporate her accidental learnings into some semblance of a sense of self. Yet despite the somewhat impulsive and intuitive nature of her current developmental stage, it’s also very clear to me that she is absorbing everything, especially the thoughts and behaviors modeled by those around her. And who is she around more than anyone? For better and for worse, that would be ME.

So as I head into 2021, I don’t really have a lot of goals or resolutions, but I do have some hopes and aspirations that, for my own sake, and my daughter’s, I would really like to work towards, and live up to. (And I’m definitely more likely to do both of those things if I write them down, and share them here with you.)

Looking forward, I am 100% certain that 2021 is going to test me: perhaps even more than 2020 did. I am weeks away from my third trimester, and mere months away from my third baby. If I’ve learned anything from my previous pregnancies, and the newborn phases that followed, it’s that there’s no way to predict exactly what’s to come, but it will definitely be messy.

In 2021, I am going to have to make some big decisions about work life, and home life, and what I’m willing and able to compromise on. My husband and I are going to have to, once again, readjust our roles at home: a process which, for me at least, has been one of the most complicated, and confusing parts of marriage. We’re also going to have to learn how to scrape out time for ourselves, and remember to put our love for each other first, amidst the chaos that a new baby is sure to bring.

In 2021, I am also going to have to figure out how, exactly, one emerges from a global pandemic, and rebuilds some of the pieces of life that have, to be honest, fallen apart a little bit over the past year. To a certain degree, I am going to have to re-learn how to be in the world, as a friend, neighbor, mom, etc, and I really have no idea what that looks like.

A few weeks ago, I received, in the mail, the beautiful book “I Wish You Happiness,” by Michael Wong and Ann Baratashvili. The book lists (in poetic form) many of the wishes that most parents have for their children and, hopefully, for themselves as well. The book is beautiful, and wise, and full of lovely reminders about what really matters in life.

And it’s this book that really inspired me to look at the beginning of 2021 through a more positive lens. Because even though I am surely going to struggle, I am also going to thrive. I am going to be more fulfilled, and confident in myself than I have ever been before. I am going to learn, and grow, and change into someone entirely new. I am going to make new friends, and embark on new adventures, and rise above the multitude of new challenges that will surely be thrown my way. While I have a lot of trepidation about this coming year, I have even more hopes and wishes, and I can’t wait for at least a few of them to come true.

Below, I have written my own “list of wishes” for the coming year. As always, I would love to hear which ones resonate with you as well.

Wishing you the happiest new year, and a safe, healthy, and fulfilling 2021!

Wishes For My 2021 Self:

  • I wish you the freedom to let go: to recognize what you can change, and what you can’t, and to free space in your mind for the things that are purposeful and good.
  • I wish you compassion, and the ability to give everyone you meet the grace and acceptance you would give those you love the most.
  • I wish you acceptance, both of yourself, and your situation.
  • I wish you self control, and the ability to forgive yourself when you lose it.
  • I wish you access to all of your feelings, as well as the ability to determine which deserve a voice.
  • I wish you discernment, and the ability to confidently decide what feedback and input is meaningful, and what you should let go of.
  • I wish you both confidence and flexibility, in yourself, your decisions, and he values you choose to live your life by.
  • I wish for you to never find your “niche,” and to always allow yourself to change and grow.
  • I wish you freedom from comparison, and acceptance of the truth that there is no one right way to be.
  • I wish you the strength to not take things personally.
  • I wish you creativity, and the motivation to make something every day.
  • I wish you rest and reflection, and the time and space to be grateful.
  • I wish you patience with yourself in this new season, and for you to always remember that how far you have already come is only a fraction of how much you will continue to grow.
  • I wish you the ability to always remember that you will, eventually, move forward again, even during times when you feel like you are falling so far behind.
  • I wish you perseverance, and the ability to appreciate the beauty in every struggle.

My Favorite Moments, and Reads, of 2020:

And lastly, it wouldn’t be an end-of-the-year post without a little bit of looking back on the things I loved about 2020. From my favorite books, to my favorite family moments, here’s a little glimpse of my “best of” list:

Best Adult Books:

Best Kids Books:

Best Moments:

Yosemite National Park Trip – Summer 2020
Mammoth Lakes Trip – Summer 2020
Hangin’ With Max – Summer 2020
Mammoth With the Fam – Summer 2020
Lemon’s First Day – Fall 2020
Watching Garbage Trucks – Every Tuesday 2020
Hugging Layla – Every Day 2020
Halloween – Fall 2020
The Living Desert Zoo – Fall 2020
Art Projects – Every Day 2020
Hanukkah – Winter 2020
Christmas Morning – Winter 2020

7 Years of Marriage & The House in the Cerulean Sea

This past week, my husband and I celebrated our SEVENTH wedding anniversary. We didn’t do much (its hard to find a babysitter during a pandemic), but it still felt pretty momentous.

Dan and I were the first of our friends to get married. Our wedding was in July of 2013, and we were a mere 25 years old. We got married in Chicago, and my mom was my wedding planner. I can honestly say that it was the best day of my life, largely thanks to my parents, and the college and high-school friends in attendance who hadn’t yet learned the difference between a frat party and a wedding reception.

When we decided to get married, I remember thinking that it was a big step, but also being sure that it was the right one. I knew I had found a really good guy who loved me despite my weirdness (I haven’t always been an “easy” partner, but he never bats an eye). I also knew that there was a lot my then fiance and I didn’t know about how to make a marriage work, the challenges of living thousands of miles from our families, what it means to navigate grown-up careers, and the stress kids would bring into our lives. I knew that we would definitely face some of the hardest times of our lives together, and that we would hopefully grow together in the process.

I also knew that uncertainty is inevitable, and that making no choice, would have been way worse than making what could possibly end up being the wrong one. So we jumped.

The House in the Cerulean Sea by TJ Klune is about a man named Linus who never jumps. He thrives on living comfortably, and refusing to take risks. As a result, he is very, very lonely, but refuses to admit it–even to himself.

Linus works for The Department in Charge of Magical Youth, and is a good employee, as most hard-working people with no semblance of a social life are. As a result of his diligence, impartiality, and lack of confidants, he is chosen by Extremely Upper Management to work a top secret, and very important, assignment.

Linus is sent to an orphanage for magical youth, in order to determine whether the living conditions are “adequate.” When he arrives, he finds himself confronted with some pretty terrifying “children,” but also discovers that his assignment might actually have more to do with the orphanage director, than the children themselves.

Klune is a masterful world-builder, and succeeded in truly transporting me to a very believable Marsyas Island. The characters were strange, but also delightfully witty and relatable. (Any author who can get me to connect with the child of Satan really knows what he’s doing.) I fell in love with the kids right alongside Linus, and really enjoyed how his character development required a little suspension of disbelief, but not as much as I would have thought for such a fantastical book.

But the best part of the book is the love story that lit a roaring fire in Linus’s cavernously empty heart. Going into this book, I knew that it was a queer love story, and I honestly wasn’t sure if I would connect or relate to it as I would a more hetero-normative plot line. But boy, was I wrong.

The most amazing thing about my own marriage is how much it has changed both my husband and myself. Neither of us are the people we were seven years ago, and I could not be more grateful for that fact. My husband has taught me how to have compassion for myself, and helped me overcome the habits that were holding me back. I have taught him how embrace the discomfort of his feelings, and how to clean a toilet.

In the book, Linus learns that there are things in life worth fighting for, and he teaches his partner how important it is, both for yourself, and those who look up to you, to be truly and authentically yourself.

Like our love story, Linus’s is one of struggle, faith, and compromise. Linus spent a good chunk of his life struggling to work up the nerve to to even believe in anything worth reaching for. But once he finally did, it was pretty great.

People often say that “marriage isn’t easy,” and I’m not sure that’s true. When I think of the past seven years, I can think of a lot of things that were hard, but, at the end of the day, if you take those things away, our bond, and the way we feel about each other, is the easiest thing I have. And at the end of The House in the Cerulean Sea, Linus also realizes that life would be a lot easier (and crazier, and sillier, and more fun) if he just let the rest of it go, and allowed himself to fall in love.

The Book (Click to Purchase):

Where to next?