Once again, it is that time of year where everyone feels the need to reassess their life situation. Personally, I have never been interested in New Year’s resolutions. For me, they hold little weight. Telling myself I am no longer going to do something just because it is the first of the year ultimately results in me doing that thing out of rebellion. I hate following rules, even if I set them for myself.
“I will write 20 minutes a day.” No, I won’t.
“I will do yoga three times a week.” Unless I am tired or hungry. So, never.
“I will eat healthy all of the time. Even on weekends.” This weekend, I went to Culver’s. I ordered nothing for myself. Instead, I ate all of the fries my kids left behind.
“I will quit wine.” This one is absolutely insane. It is more likely that I would win the lottery than actually pull this off.
These are all unrealistic resolutions. I’m rebellious to my inner core. Putting up boundaries, establishing restrictive policies will only result in me barreling through those things out of spite.
This year, I need to set realistic goals. Here are some of the things I have come up with so far:
1. I will do yoga when I am in the mood. If that means once a month, so be it.
2. I will make whole-hearted attempts to dream up stories in my head and on paper as often as I can tolerate. Words are not hard to write. Inspired, well thought out, beautifully woven stories are very difficult to transfer from mind to paper. In front of my computer or reading a book or sitting on the couch, I plan on doing some intentional story telling this year.
3. Recognizing joy. I have a horrible habit of seeing the worst in situations. I have high expectations. I blame the entertainment industry. I think my family time should look like those goofball scenes in Inside Out. So when my six-year-old is having a meltdown because her brother is in her chair and she claims she had a verbal contract to sit in that chair for the entire week, but now he has broken that verbalized agreement and she cannot handle life if it is not lived in that chair, I erupt. That eruption will leave me fuming for a good hour. It takes me that long to calm down. I want to work on that. Maybe take it down to 45 minutes of anger, 15 minutes of recognizing joy. This one is going to be the most difficult.
4. Self control. When I was six WEEKS old, my grandma fed me White Castle. It has been downhill ever since. I have had a taste of the finer things in life and there really isn’t an easy way back from that. This has nothing to do with the size of my waist and everything to do with the way I feel after I have eaten my Wendy’s chicken sandwich and my kid’s left over nuggets and fries and the shake my dad didn’t finish. I spend the next two days in digestive recovery. It isn’t worth it.
5. I want to read more. Less Netflix bingeing, more library trips. Unfortunately, my current library of choice is about to be closed for remodeling. I was fine with the raggedy furniture, but no one asked for my okay. Rude, I know.
6. I will work harder and bitch less. Or work the same amount and bitch under my breath. I haven’t exactly nailed down a direction yet.
7. I will forgive myself. If I get too wordy with this one, I will start crying and I’m just not in the mood for all of that. Basically, I’m very hard on myself and it needs to stop. I’m 33 years old. I am, for all intents and purposes, an adult. As an adult, I see the value in forgiving others, but for some reason, I struggle with letting myself off of the hook. That drama needs to change, effective immediately.
8. I will see the dentist. Maybe. Probably. If I have time. I will forgive myself if I don’t make it.