I simultaneously love and hate the end of the year.
I love the idea of a new beginning – the hope that comes along with starting a new year. It’s a warm & fuzzy feeling. But I hate the concept of making a resolution for the new year. Actually, I hate the idea of committing to the resolution(s). That is a nauseating feeling – so much pressure! Do I really need more opportunities to fail? However, it’s probably a good idea to encourage the masses to be a bit more self aware. I can’t think of any other occasion for which we are encouraged to improve ourselves with such public acceptance.
I’m sure if I asked those close to me, they would volunteer some resolutions for me, so here are some resolutions I should have, but don’t (and my guess at who would offer the resolution):
- Quit forgetting stuff. (my daughters)
- Start running. (my husband)
- Clean out my minivan more regularly. (my entire family)
- Quit obsessing about my hair. (my husband and my sister)
- Just go to the damn Container Store already. (my husband and my friend Shannon with whom I feel I’m sharing my plans for future purchases there every time we talk)
I have issues with committing to things. For some (please don’t analyze me) reason I have trouble jumping in with both feet. So my actual New Year’s Resolution for 2012 is to commit to…
I am not the best wife or mother in the world, but I do a pretty good job of making sure my family has everything they need to grow and develop and be happy. I can’t really say that I’ve done the same for myself. I used to see putting myself first as a selfish and inappropriate choice, but now I see it as something that is necessary in order for me to be the best I can be for my family.
And myself. Dammit. See how hard that is?