Tonight we took our first bath in 2016. I pictured it washing away all of the ugly from the last year, all those moments I swore I'd drown in the guilt. The months we didn't know what was going on with this babe, why she wasn't gaining weight--those months felt like long, torturous lifetimes. They stole so much joy, and we're still working on fixing all that was broken.

But today I can tell myself that was LAST year. I can separate myself from that season with something tangible like the numbers on a calendar.  I can tell myself to let go and stop holding hands with the ghost of a new mama who truly had no idea it was okay to trust her instincts over what the doctors said. I can sit here in the bath with my nursing, sleeping toddler (I'm fully aware both nursing and co-bathing are controversial at this age) and say no, you don't know my child better than I do, and I don't know yours. But I can bet we're doing the best we can to love them with all we have.

So love her I will, without guilt, this year and next and 75 years after that.

To kick off this new season, I'm signing off for a week or two. Hope to be back soon with a full heart and some fresh content for you, friends!

Happy New Year!