Welcoming January

January always feels like a doorway.

New vision. New expectations. A quiet invitation to step forward after closing the chapter on the year before.

But welcoming January hasn’t been simple for me.

This month holds both victories and losses. It’s the month I gave birth to Michael. The month we got Bao. And the month my brother passed away. Because of that, January carries some of my sweetest memories—and some of my heaviest grief.

Grief is strange. It doesn’t follow rules or timelines. It comes in waves I still don’t fully understand. I still cry for my brother. And now, my heart also aches for my dog. This month brings all the should’ve, could’ve, would’ve moments. And while I know I can’t change the fact that they’re gone, I’m learning to welcome January with a grateful heart—and with faith that there can still be triumph even in the midst of loss.

This year, January met us gently.

Peaceful. Restful. A little chaotic at times (because… kids 😅), but still deeply restorative.

We took a short 4-night cruise and intentionally stepped away from social media. No doom scrolling. Just reading, resting, and letting our bodies reset. I genuinely don’t remember the last time I slept that much—probably infancy 😂 The waves rocking us to sleep, no meals to plan, no schedules to rush… it was such a gift.

We let the boys stay up late watching the same movie on repeat, and somehow when it ended, they were perfectly ready for bed. No alarms. Just sunrise light, ocean views, and waking up to God’s creation right outside our window. It filled my soul in a way I didn’t realize I needed.

Coming home meant jumping back into real life—work, routines, and planning a very special birthday because Michael turned 5 🥹

Yes, I stayed up late making party favors and baking vanilla chocolate chip cupcakes. And yes, I was tired. But seeing his smile and hearing him say, “Thank you, mama,” made it all worth it. Moments like that remind me that motherhood is never in vain—even when it feels exhausting.

Welcoming January this year has been surprisingly good.
And I’m holding space for whatever else this month—and this year—has in store.

✨ Here’s to rest, remembrance, and hope unfolding slowly.