Every single year, since I started this blog in 2005, I’ve ended the year with a post recapping the previous year. Except this year. This year I needed some time to digest 2011. Some time to stop the screaming nightmares that was 2011.

Oh I jest.

Sort of.

The fact is, 2011 kind of blowed.

There was the house(s)

We put our house up for sale in August 2010 and let complete strangers roam through our home in hopes of a sale. Only as summer became Fall and Fall became Winter, the number of people roaming through our house dwindled. And we began 2011 with the stress of STILL trying to sell our house. As the hope started to fade to despair.

We rounded out the end of the first quarter of the year with the stress of almost losing our new house. As it went up for sale. Since couldn’t sell our old house. Driving by our new house. With the floor plan we drew up. And the cabinets we picked out. And the siding and stone we chose. And the front door I loved. And then seeing a “For Sale” in the yard was almost more than I could take.

In May we FINALLY got an offer. And I cried tears of joy. But the stress didn’t end. The middle of the year was spent stressing about pushed out closing dates for both our old house and our new house. Due to things beyond our control. It was at this point that people kept telling us horror stories about how somebody they knew ended up losing their sale because of [insert reason here].

And then there was the constant worry that something would go wrong and we wouldn’t get financing for our new house. Thereby leaving us homeless. This is the point where people kept telling us about how it’s soooo hard to get financing these days due to the collapsing housing market and banking fiasco. And, again, people were telling us their horror stories about how they knew somebody who ended up not getting a loan because [insert reason here].

And this is when I realized people suck.

But we did close. On both houses. One in May. And the other in June. And we even lived to tell about it.

There was the strike

As if I needed more keep me up at night, the union workers at my company threatened to go on strike if the company couldn’t agree to a new contract.

We spent the beginning of the year gossiping and worry about this strike.

We spent the beginning of the summer scrambling to make arrangements to (1) leave our families behind and (2) make travel arrangements and hotel reservations in the cities where we would be working for an undetermined amount of time (until the strike ended). Doing jobs we know nothing about and have absolutely no interest in.

I spent much of the month of July on all day training calls. Learning new systems. Learning new products. Learning how to be handle raging customers. [Have you met me? This is not one of my strong points.]

It was at this point I hit my breaking point on the way to a nervous breakdown.

By the time August came around, the workers went on strike. But I was excused from travel (thankfully). So I was able to stay home with my family. Ignoring them while I worked ridiculously long hours covering for those who were deployed.

The strike only last two weeks until the union and the company could come to a temporary agreement. Which was good in that everybody got to come home. But bad in that we’ve now spent the last half of the year worrying that we’ll be doing this all over again. Soon. With little notice. Because they have yet to agree on a new contract.

There were the teenage years

Sprinkled throughout the year were bits of insanity from the teenager. For said teenager’s privacy I won’t go in to details. But let’s just say, if kids came out of the womb as teenagers I would have stopped at one. I am a firm believer that the purpose of the teenage years is to help parents let go. So when the teen is ready to move out, instead of crying, we just help them pack and tell them to keep in touch. Occasionally. From their own home. And then we slip them a hundred. For bail money. And push them out the front door.

I find comfort in the knowledge that some day my kids will have likely have their own teenagers. And I can just sit back with my bottle of wine and laugh.

On to 2012

But, all that said, I know 2012 is going to be a rough year too. Because said teenager will graduate from high school in May. And even with all the insanity. And tears. And worry. I know I will be a hot mess as I watch him walk across the stage to accept his diploma. I know I will hyperventilate at just the anticipation of him moving out. I know I will worry every single day he isn’t here. Wondering if he’s safe. And happy. And making good choices.

So bring on the wine. ‘Cause this is going to be a bumpy ride.