I had big plans for the summer I was twelve.

I can’t remember what all of them were, but I know one of them was to practice the piano every day for thirty minutes. Maybe I was also going to write or draw every day and keep my room tidy.

Apparently, I haven’t changed a whole lot in terms of the things I’d like to accomplish. But I’m a lot better at sticking to my routines these days. What I didn’t know when I was twelve was that when, inevitably, I failed to follow through on my commitment, it wasn’t a permanent failure. I could always try again.

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Here we are at the end of 2020, and the Internet is flooded with people looking ahead to the brighter possibilities of 2021.

Of course, the division between the years is arbitrary. Though vaccines give us reason to be hopeful that the end of the pandemic is in sight, we are still very much in it. And we’ll still be in it when the calendar page flips to January. Some optimism is reasonable, but it’s delusional to imagine that there will be a drastic change in our circumstances from Friday forward.

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Who knows how exhausted this parent was or how many flights he and his toddler had been on that day.

However, it’s likely that he was no more exhausted than any other parent of a toddler. Jet lag is a relatively minor inconvenience compared to the intensity of life with a tiny, strong-willed person who wants to do everything.

The two of them were sitting together on the plane when he went to unzip her jacket.

“NO!” she said loudly. “ME DO!”

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A friend of mine used to babysit for a six-year-old girl. Lacking a better plan, he plunked her in front of the TV.

Whenever a commercial for a toy would come on, she would say mournfully, “Wish I could have that…”

The tone of her voice went beyond a child’s eager materialism to a deeper, existential sorrow. The implication was, “I can never have that.” Simultaneously hilarious and tragic.

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When packing for an international trip, I am committed to traveling as light as possible.

This takes a lot of work. I have to choose my most versatile clothing, select the tiniest toiletries, and forgo some conveniences. The key question is not, “Is there a chance I’ll need it?” but “Can I live without it?”

Then, the clothes get packed in a compression bag and slide into a small messenger bag along with everything else. I have lived happily this way for three weeks and could probably make it much longer. Traveling with so little does require doing a bit of awkward laundry, but it is worth it to be able to hop off of a plane or train and do whatever you want without having to worry about your bags.

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