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It was the best of worsts; it was the worst of worsts.

This year was not my favorite. It was also not my least favorite. Congratulations, 2014 – you sure did a mediocre job. 2015, I’m not going to lie, you have some pretty average size shoes to fill.

Because everyone is talking about what they’d like to do better in 2015, I’d like to take a moment to really appreciate all of the stuff I gloriously fucked up in 2014.

Worst Parenting Moment – If I were a Ms. Bad Parenting pageant contestant, I’d stand up in front of all of you in ill-fitting sequins assless chaps and when asked to showcase my worst parenting moment, I’d say, “All of them.” and if you asked me to please narrow it down for the judges, I’d say, “No.” and then for good measure I’d say, “And World Peace!” because that is how you win pageants.

Worst Human Moment – I accidentally stole a kid’s scooter. It was a mistake and I feel horrible about it. I felt even more horrible when the series of cockamamy events made the scenario absolutely hysterical except for the actual “alleged” stealing of said scooter. From a school. On camera. Whatever, don’t act like you’ve never stolen a child’s scooter from an elementary school. I bet you have 15 stolen scooters in your garage right now. Don’t judge me. But, if you are judging me I have one thing to say, “And World Peace!”

Worst Wife Moment – I got a tattoo even though my husband explicitly and repeatedly and with fucking feeling expressed his desire that I not get one. And I said, “Honey – love of my life, I hear you loud and clear and I’m doing it anyway.” I’m pretty sure this falls under the For Better or For Worse category. I think the size and placement of said tattoo will have me disqualified from the swimsuit competition. You can thank me later.

Worst Employee Moment – I forgot to call our local Fire Department to let them know the school where I work was having a Fire Drill and the Fire Department showed up. I still have my job mostly because no one complains when firemen show up in their big, shiny truck. Ever.

and now, a year in review:

My ass got bigger and bigger and then smaller and is now bigger again and applying for its own zip code.

My children got bigger and bigger and then even bigger and they are now applying for parental emancipation.

My husband started to go grey and then more grey and is now a silver fox and FUCK YOU, MEN for aging so gracefully.

My breasts got longer and longer and longer and are now mistaken for bongo drums when I squat.

My ideas got big and bigger and bigger and filled all of the spaces in my brain but didn’t necessarily break through the gates onto paper or into actual changes in actual living. We can’t all be Martha Stewart. I’d settle for prison Martha Stewart’s drunk cousin.

The internet was as mean as it ever was but always made me laugh just enough that I never threw my computer dramatically out of a window. “I’m mad as hell and I’m not going to take it….oh wait, is that a fat cat climbing into a tiny box? Hilarious.”

Money was money. It came, it went and we managed. It’s just money. It all works out in the end.

Health – We’re still alive. Fuck yeah!

Motherhood was tough. This is where you say, “No shit, Sherlock. That’s the gig”.

Marriage was tough. We loved each other through the whole year even when we didn’t like each other. No matter how many bachelor pads he decorated in his mind, he’s still here. That’s love.

Working saved me. I’ve never been so happy to make such a small paycheck. My house is filthy. It’s a constant struggle to get everyone where they need to be. I’ve never been happier. I learned that I need to leave my home every day in order to be a better mother. If mama ain’t happy…

Friendships – Some flourished and others suffered from failure to thrive. And we don’t push it anymore. Everyone finds their people.

We witnessed far more birth than death.

We laughed more than we cried.

If a door was slammed in our face, we opted to bust through the wall like the Kool-Aid guy.

and some really inspirational shit even happened.

I almost forgot…

2014 is the year WE STOPPED BUYING DIAPERS! I believe the feeling this fact pumps through my body is called ecstasy. Not the drug kind. The high on life kind.

Enjoy your last few days of 2014. Don’t be ashamed to celebrate the bad because “Baby, without the sour the sweet just isn’t as sweet.”

Happy New Year.

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