Another new year. I found myself feeling pressured this morning- unprepared. Like I was about to take a test I hadn't studied for. I have a few resolutions I'd like to make, but I find this time of year an ironic time for resolutions. It's colder than usual, for starters. Granted, in my part of the world the sun is shining, the breeze is calm, and I wouldn't even need a sweater to enjoy the day outside. The evenings are cold, though, and the days are at their shortest. We're all still craving pancakes for breakfast, spaghetti with meatballs, and hot chocolate. This leads to moodswings that can only be alleviated by the hair of the dog, thus keeping us on an ongoing cycle of indulgence. I'm still nursing, too, and this adds a caloric need to my diet that can't be met with juiced kale, fruit salads, and alfalfa sprouts.
Our budget's been tapped out from Christmas so an about face diet change to gluten free, sugar free, raw organic foods sounds out of our price range. Costco has it's limitations, albeit with it's huge bags of organic baby carrots and triple containers of milk. Even Michael's beloved organic two percent milk would a casualty of one of the resolutions I've been toying with- the diet overhaul. I've decided not to add to my list of Things to Feel Guilty About by trying to start a diet overhaul in the middle of winter. Scratch that resolution. I'll resolve to enter the "research" phase and buy a healthy diet book, or crack open the half dozen I already own.
I learned long ago not to get too specific with what I resolve to change about myself. My psyche doesn't like being micromanaged. The older I get the softer and more "user friendly" my resolutions become. This year I'll resolve to lighten up. I'll leave more beds unmade and look at the floor less as I'm walking around the house. I'll leave dishes in the sink overnight more, and I'll be okay with that. I won't ask Michael if he has to pee when he comes up to tell me or show me something "cool." I'll snuggle with him in the morning when he comes in my room (after 6, of course), without asking him if his nighttime pullup's dry. I'll let him chew as much gum as he can fit in his mouth until he runs out. ( I draw the line at gum smacking, though- I'm only human.) I'll read lighthearted parenting books mixed in with light, bubblegum fiction. I'll watch the news less. I'll meditate more. Stretch more. Do more and less of whatever I can to achieve the goal- to be a lighter, happier person- to lighten up. I'll also resolve to lighten up about lightening up. No pressure either way.