In 2013
Dear Blog,
Every year I peer over the edge of December into January and make the same resolutions I made the year before and the year before that. You’d think that by now I would have given up. That I would have learned something from my failure, year after year after year, to become some ideal, polished version of myself, the movie-highlight reel of me, instead of the blooper reel. You’d think I would have learned to be OK with blooper-me, sort of settled into it. You’d think.
I don’t know if it’s optimism or just kind of pathetic, the way I always think I’m really going to change, that tomorrow night I’ll clean the house and go to bed early, that from now on I will be the kind of patient, energetic, focused, unselfish parent I want my kids to have, that I will no longer waste my precious minutes reading awful, stupid, immediately forgettable things on the internet. That I will make time to exercise, and bake healthy muffins, and read challenging works of non-fiction. That I will eat better and be more organized and more productive. That I will be nicer and more fun and more clever. That I will figure out what to do with my hair. That I will stop biting my fingernails. That I will improve my posture. That I will sweep the back porch. Tomorrow. Tomorrow I will sweep the porch, and everything else will stem from that.
This year, I’m done with it. I am trying to be more realistic about the limitations of life with very young children, and the limitations of being a big lame-o. I am going to prioritize sleep and cut myself some slack. Here are my resolutions:
In 2013, I will bite my nails to the quick.
In 2013, I will eat a lot of crap, and feel bad about it.
In 2013, I will let my 3-year-old watch more TV than I think is good for him, so that I can write, and I will feel guilty about that too.
In 2013, I will too often lose my temper with my kids, which is stupid and ineffective and unpleasant for everybody, and I know that, but I will do it anyway.
In 2013, I will not change my hairstyle, but I will acknowledge that I cannot really use the word “style” in relation to my current hair.
In 2013, my apartment will be a dump. Not just messy, but truly, genuinely dirty.
In 2013, I will not do any exercise beyond running around after the kids.
In 2013, I will drink too much coffee and too much wine.
In 2013, I will buy books on amazon that I could get at the library, because I’m too lazy to go to the library.
In 2013, I will not make time to listen to good music I like. I will only listen to stuff my kids like.
In 2013, I will not challenge myself, I will not break out of my rut, I will not do anything to discourage the near-total calcification of what I’d like to call my intellect.
In 2013, I will not waste time and energy being angry with myself for these failures. I will tell myself that there will be time, sometime, to tackle a few of the most important ones, but not in 2013. I will think to myself, So What, and Who Cares, because I can count on a few things I’ve been doing for years, without trying.
In 2013, I will read books that shake me and change me and work magic inside me, I will write every day and have something to show for it by the end of the year, and every day I will hug my boys (including the man one), and every night we will read stories together before bed, and every day we will go outside, and every night and every day I will be grateful for this abundance of love and story, for the trees outside my window and for my warm bed, and it won’t matter at all that my hair is too frizzy and the laundry is piling up, nope it really won’t matter at all.
Happy New Year Blog (I hope to goodness you are resolving to be more witty and pithy and whatnot),
Catherine
PS Here is a present for you:
Every year I peer over the edge of December into January and make the same resolutions I made the year before and the year before that. You’d think that by now I would have given up. That I would have learned something from my failure, year after year after year, to become some ideal, polished version of myself, the movie-highlight reel of me, instead of the blooper reel. You’d think I would have learned to be OK with blooper-me, sort of settled into it. You’d think.
I don’t know if it’s optimism or just kind of pathetic, the way I always think I’m really going to change, that tomorrow night I’ll clean the house and go to bed early, that from now on I will be the kind of patient, energetic, focused, unselfish parent I want my kids to have, that I will no longer waste my precious minutes reading awful, stupid, immediately forgettable things on the internet. That I will make time to exercise, and bake healthy muffins, and read challenging works of non-fiction. That I will eat better and be more organized and more productive. That I will be nicer and more fun and more clever. That I will figure out what to do with my hair. That I will stop biting my fingernails. That I will improve my posture. That I will sweep the back porch. Tomorrow. Tomorrow I will sweep the porch, and everything else will stem from that.
This year, I’m done with it. I am trying to be more realistic about the limitations of life with very young children, and the limitations of being a big lame-o. I am going to prioritize sleep and cut myself some slack. Here are my resolutions:
In 2013, I will bite my nails to the quick.
In 2013, I will eat a lot of crap, and feel bad about it.
In 2013, I will let my 3-year-old watch more TV than I think is good for him, so that I can write, and I will feel guilty about that too.
In 2013, I will too often lose my temper with my kids, which is stupid and ineffective and unpleasant for everybody, and I know that, but I will do it anyway.
In 2013, I will not change my hairstyle, but I will acknowledge that I cannot really use the word “style” in relation to my current hair.
In 2013, my apartment will be a dump. Not just messy, but truly, genuinely dirty.
In 2013, I will not do any exercise beyond running around after the kids.
In 2013, I will drink too much coffee and too much wine.
In 2013, I will buy books on amazon that I could get at the library, because I’m too lazy to go to the library.
In 2013, I will not make time to listen to good music I like. I will only listen to stuff my kids like.
In 2013, I will not challenge myself, I will not break out of my rut, I will not do anything to discourage the near-total calcification of what I’d like to call my intellect.
In 2013, I will not waste time and energy being angry with myself for these failures. I will tell myself that there will be time, sometime, to tackle a few of the most important ones, but not in 2013. I will think to myself, So What, and Who Cares, because I can count on a few things I’ve been doing for years, without trying.
In 2013, I will read books that shake me and change me and work magic inside me, I will write every day and have something to show for it by the end of the year, and every day I will hug my boys (including the man one), and every night we will read stories together before bed, and every day we will go outside, and every night and every day I will be grateful for this abundance of love and story, for the trees outside my window and for my warm bed, and it won’t matter at all that my hair is too frizzy and the laundry is piling up, nope it really won’t matter at all.
Happy New Year Blog (I hope to goodness you are resolving to be more witty and pithy and whatnot),
Catherine
PS Here is a present for you:
date
newest »
newest »
Those are excellent resolutions, especially the first one. xox
In 2013, I will read Catherine's blog, because I just discovered it and I like it.