2017, Day Three.

I undecorated my house for Christmas the same day I turned 38, and it was, in a way, symbolic of something I continue to learn–that putting away and optimistically moving forward is every bit an important practice as setting up and hanging on to the present moment because you don’t want it to end.

In 38 years, I’ve become far more familiar with my strengths and weaknesses, and somewhere between those two categories lies my notorious vice grip on things I love–my children’s babyhood, Christmas, a great vacation, a dinner out with friends that feels like magic. I’m usually the last to let go–the one begging, “No stay! One more hour! One more day! Don’t let it end!” It is a strength in that it’s rooted in great recognition for magic moments in life–I feel and appreciate them so deeply–and gratitude for surrounding beauty. But it’s also a weakness in that it’s intertwined with a subconscious irrational fear–that raising babies is the happiest I’ll ever be…that Christmas is the most magical our year will ever get…that the “regular life” that follows a great vacation will be mundane and emotionless…that the electric energy of a dinner out with friends will never be repeated. These are scarcity lies that discredit my own power to seek good, recognize beauty, create rituals, appreciate moments and live my very best life by the choices I make every day.

I’ve found three powerful words that push me forward. They are my mantra as Dash grows out of his 4T overalls; as Lainey moves beyond baby dolls; as car seats graduate to booster seats; as tears are wiped with another Happy Birthday sung; as youth fades into the fine lines of “beautiful stories lived”; as ornaments get wrapped back in tissue paper and tucked into their garage bins; as another year gets toasted with champagne glasses and all our gratitude for the past and intentions for the future…There is More.

There is more. There is more. There is more.

And because of that, I’m learning that it’s okay to be both a little bit sad to put things away but also grateful and excited to move forward, swim deeper, accept time.

In the space where the Christmas tree was, light pours in our living room and a new path is opened up for Dash’s remote control car. We have stocked up heavily on family lounge days, enjoyed Brett being home this past week and are feeling renewed to make new fun plans for the coming months.

I’m not a big January resolution girl (my brain follows more the school year calendar, and August feels more resolution-ish to me), but it felt fun and inspiring this year to make a little list of small ways to enter the new year. I’ve been checking off a lot of these this week with more to come.

• Order prints of your favorite pictures of 2016 and switch out picture displays around the house.
• Prune dying leaves on your plants. In fact, maybe just call TOD on all withered plants and start new. Perhaps artificial ones for a while or easy air plants.
• Tuck pretty hankies in your purse and vow to use them more. (I have these 100% cotton ones and love them.)
• Clean one kitchen cabinet. If you feel inspired to keep going, that’s fine, but go for one.
• Make sure you have a desk drawer stocked with pretty stationery so you can send lots of snail mail this year. Buy new stamps. I got these pretty botanical ones for the new year, but these Wonder Woman ones are a powerful way to celebrate your woman power as you go in to the new year.
• Wash your sheets and make your bed the most inviting corner of the house.
• Pick a new book to read for the new year. Might I suggest my friend Erin’s book that comes out next week? Chasing Slow. Click on it, read the synopsis and then try not ordering it…good luck. Another great one that comes out next week, Kelsey Crowe & Emily McDowell’s There Is No Good Card for This. And for a great chapter book to start reading with your kids this new year, try The Poet’s Dog (we just started it). I’m already smitten.
• Tidy your office area. Put a new candle on your desk. Buy new pens. 
• Think of one person who would be overjoyed to get a phone call from you (ahem…your mom), and call them. Ask them all about their holidays, tell them a story that will make them laugh, say I love you before you hang up.
• Put a date with your spouse on the calendar and set up a babysitter.
• Visit the Valentine’s section at Target and smile. 
• Try a new lipstick color.
• Write a short letter to your child, telling them a favorite moment you had with them in 2016, and tuck it away for them to read years from now.

Finally, a few of our favorite moments this past week…

A New Year’s Eve driveway party…

(my boys)…

Fresh clean bedding for the new year…

So many naps last week!

Games by the pool…(we got two of these for Christmas and have been having timed Tetris wars all week–so much fun!)

The best weather Florida has to offer…

Happy New Year, friends. There is so much more in store.

This post is sponsored by StoryWorth.

There’s only six more days until Christmas. That means shipping deadlines for ordering photo books are over. It’s too late to get something framed. Adding personalization to a gift? Forget about it. Before you run out to buy a “filler” gift (toaster/candle/gift certificate) because you never could find that meaningful thing you were hoping to find for your parents or your grandparents, let me tell you my secret for the world’s most meaningful gift: Tell them you want to know their stories. Tell them you will help them record them. Tell them you value their past, their thoughts, the things they’ve experienced, and that you want your kids to know them too. Commit to preserving them…for everyone. Let me tell you more about StoryWorth.

This is my only surviving grandparent, my 87-year-old grandma, Loverna. She is a force of nature, a treasure of stories–hundreds of them–of joy and heartache and love and humor that have made her who she is. She is part of me. When she sends me an e-mail, it reads like a book–funny, well-worded, thought-provoking, a tiny scratch off the surface of what lies beneath…more stories. I want to know more. She laughs and says “I’m not a writer,” but oh, she is.

I started an ambitious project with her last year. I wanted to record her stories–who she’s loved, what she’s learned, how she’s changed, what inspires her–I want to know it all. I don’t want to lose another grandparent someday, thinking “I never knew…”. I want to know who her best friend was growing up, the things her mother cooked, the most meaningful thing her father ever did for her, what teachers impacted who she is. I want to know how hard raising six kids in the 50s was, how her faith has changed over the years, what her favorite Christmas memories are. So we set up a time for me to call once a week. I would ask her questions about her life, and she would answer while I typed. I loved how it started, every Monday night at 7:00. With every word she spoke, I felt like I was unburying more treasure. But life got in the way, kids demanded me during the hour we set aside, I was postponing our chats, and soon our project fizzled. I felt awful about it because it was important to me. It is important to me.

And then I remembered the gift we gave my father-in-law for Father’s Day this year…a subscription to StoryWorth. Each week, StoryWorth sends your chosen storyteller a question. They answer the question with a story (they can write it back in the e-mail or call a number and record it), and their story is shared with the family members that you choose to receive it. At the end of one year of storytelling, their stories are bound in a beautiful keepsake book and sent to you.

This year, I’ve learned so much more about Brett’s family through his father’s StoryWorth stories. Sometimes his replies are succinct, and sometimes (my favorite), a question triggers a lot more, and beautiful writing and detailed memories pour out (“What was your mom like as a child?” was one I recall) from descriptions of the meals she used to cook to the time heater that looked like a “monstrous octopus” in the dirty basement of the old house they lived in. Storytellers can easily add corresponding photos to their stories as well that will be saved and printed in the book. It’s like writing a memoir, one story at a time, with a built-in editor who reminds you weekly to keep writing.

StoryWorth offers customization as well. You can let them choose the questions that will be sent, or you can pop in at any time and see upcoming questions, rearrange the order or pick and choose what will be asked from their incredible selection of hundreds of meaningful questions.

The company was started by a new father who realized the importance of passing on his dad’s stories, and wanted to help others do the same. StoryWorth is wonderful to work with and committed to family and story preservation.

I sent my grandma her invite this week and added e-mails of aunts and uncles and cousins, so we can all be recipients of the gifts I know are in store. I hand-picked the first ten weeks’ questions, and I cannot wait for that first e-mail, alerting me “Loverna has shared a story.”

So that’s my secret. You don’t have to go to a store, you don’t have to wrap it, but StoryWorth might possibly be the greatest gift you’ll give this year. The stories are there, hidden in your parents and grandparents–things you didn’t even know. They just need the invitation to share them and a little help doing so. “I want to hear your stories” is another way of saying “I love you,” you know.

To learn more about StoryWorth, you can also follow them on their social media channels:

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“It has been said that next to hunger and thirst, our most basic human need is for storytelling.” -Khalil Gibran

(We are back from Chicago, and I am editing a lot of Christmas wonderland to share tomorrow. Stay tuned!)