Eight years ago (my God has it really been eight years?!) I got my heart broken on New Years Eve. A couple days later I adopted The Little Bad Dog and five months later I met the love of my life. Six months after that I met my oldest children and so on and so forth. The ripple effect of love that was pushed into action at exactly the right moment started with a broken heart. If you’d asked me eight years ago where I’d be now I would have probably cried at you and shrieked something about being a lonely old hag. (It was a rough time, don’t judge me.)
I awoke this morning in Crazy Eyes’ bed, but not at my house. I was in her bed at her Mom’s house. Who would’ve thought I’d ever say that? Not me that’s for sure. We’ve spent the last couple New Years Eve’s together as a big weird family. Because of their Mom and Bonus Dad’s generosity and openness, (plus a little shove from The Hubs to get over my anxiety) our kids get to ring in the New Year with all of their parents and siblings together. Last night we had some insane fog come through and ended up having to stay the night. A strange way to start the New Year but not a bad way. We’ve come so far since the early days of our blended family. I’ve made mistakes along the way and learned a lot. I’m grateful for all of it.
I don’t have any predictions for 2023. If I’ve learned anything over the years it’s that I’m no fortune teller. I have falsely predicted the next year’s happenings over and over again. (2020 was for sure a bad prediction!) So for 2023 instead of making guesses, I pray for continued growth and in Thanksgiving for the blessings I’ve received. I pray that all of my family and friends stay healthy and happy. I pray that the work I do helps others. I pray for continued healing for myself and for those around me who are on our mental health journeys. I pray that 2023 is filled with laughter and joy.
Love to you all! -Diana
Mom Van Confessions 