Another year comes to a close, and in celebration, I find myself in bed by 9:45pm, nursing the last of my whisky lemonade and realizing all I have to show for the last year are two children who are—against all odds—still alive. No matter, those two accomplishments will wake me right on time as the sun has just begun brewing its own pot of coffee and as I guard my crotch and boobs against the onslaught of bony knees and elbows in my bed. So begins a bright, shiny new year, pregnant with hope and possibility.
I take a look at my resolutions from last year, typed in a fury of passion into my phone’s “notes” app, and see what I can check off. I failed to learn French or write a book, failed to go on one date per month, failed to collect any new art. My ambitions are like a buffet when I’m at my hungriest…they all look so great before I’ve eaten half the plate. It feels good to delete this particular note, but I immediately open a clean one. I stare at the blinking cursor. This year…well, this is THE year.
New Year’s Resolutions
1. I resolve to take the laundry out of the washer and put it into the dryer on the same day so that it doesn’t sit in a wet clump for three days and start smelling like feet. It’s just such a waste of water and laundry soap since I usually forget about it again and again and in the end have to wash it four times.
2. I resolve not to give myself puppy eyes in the mirror and convince myself that I’m too tired to prevent gum decay. I therefore resolve to floss my teeth at least as often as I take a shower.
3. I resolve to shower more often. It’s socially unacceptable to not remember when the last one happened. Reapplication of deodorant can only do so much.
4. I resolve to stop accidentally teaching my children swear words while they ride in the backseat of the car. People on the road will always be a$$hats, but you do not need your mother-in-law to hear that word out of your two-and-a-half-year-old’s mouth.
5. I resolve to buy a new bra. While nursing bras are naturally flattering (No.), as I haven’t nursed in nearly five months, it may be time to stop wearing them and look for one that lifts my boobs from my mid-belly back to my chest.
6. I resolve to go to the grocery store before we are out of everything edible besides flour, dried beans, rotten bananas, and tumeric. It’s hard to feed kids with these items (not that I haven’t tried). Getting takeout because I was too lazy to go to the store for two weeks just seems like a step back into my college days, which, for a number of reasons, is decidedly not what I want my current life to look like.
7. I resolve to go on one date this year. Just keepin’ it real. If it’s mid-December, and it still hasn’t happened with my husband, I’ll go on the date by myself. I hear Margot is good…
8. I resolve to be patient with my kids, and therefore I resolve to have coffee, wine, and chocolate on hand at all times, so that I can take a quick nip of one (or all) of them as soon as my kids start driving me crazy.
I save the note with as much flourish as one can muster on a phone, and give myself a nod of approval.
Oh, yeah. This is my year.