Okay, so far, two days into the year, I have already broken every resolution I have made. I realized that a big part of this is not only that I have to start holding myself accountable, but that I have to stop making excuses and stop allowing other people to influence me. Somewhere along the line, I became complacent just to avoid an argument, and I am not sure when that happened, and while I do a lot less arguing, and I seem to be happier, I have lost a big part of myself along the way.
By now, I am sure you are wondering what I'm talking about: I shall explain, using my day as an example. This morning, after no sleep because Miss Boots decided to stay awake all night, I got up and got ready to take Sarah to her physical therapy appointment. Today was supposed to be day one of the diet, when my husband comes home with a bag full of McDonald's. Problem #1: My husband is not always supportive, most of the time not because he doesn't want to be, but because he truly does not understand what he does. Problem #2: I have become complacent in order to avoid a fight. I am tired. Physically, mentally and emotionally drained, and I just have no fight left in me. Eff it has become my mantra. So, rather than hurt my husband's feelings by making him feel bad when he has tried to do something spontaneous, and save me the trouble of feeding the baby before we have to go, I eat the burger and fries. This is not enough. He continues to try to foist the other cheeseburger on me (this time, I refuse.) I accuse him of trying to sabotage me on purpose, and he laughs. So, I have already broken my resolution to eat better, but I have every intention of doing better tomorrow, now that I have figured out my problem (s).
Then, I come home, and I have about three different ideas for this blog running around in my head, and I am excited. Really excited. That's the thing. I am always thinking about the writing, it's finding the time to do the actual writing that's the problem. My husband and my mother have decided that I am only "allowed" to write the blog after the baby goes to bed When my dear friend, Kathie, the other half of the New Year's Resolution Committee, sent me a gently prodding text message asking if I had blogged today (probably knowing full well that I had not), and I informed her of this, she told me to let them both know that I was not twelve. I knew this. I know I should tell them both I'll write when I damn well please, that my daughter is well taken care of, that I am a good mother and that taking some time for myself, be it five minutes at a time in the middle of the day is not a crime. I know this. But saying so would start a war, a war I am simply too tired to fight anymore. So I agree. Then I get rebellious, because neither my mother or my husband is home, and I I type paragraph after paragraph of nonsense while my daughter plays happily on my lap with my keys, her pacifier, a small flyer, and a pen. She is happy just to be on my lap, and I am happy to be writing, and to be near my daughter at the same time. So why do I feel like the people who love me most would be happier if I were sitting on my ass watching tv while my daughter plays with her dollhouse than us being just as we are now?
I know I have painted my most cherished of loved ones with a pretty harsh brush, but they are not all bad. My husband, God love him, means well and just plain doesn't know any better. He was trying to do a good thing and help me out, and he just plain forgot I was supposed to start my diet today. He was raised by wolves. Almost quite literally. He doesn't get a pass, but I need to remember that and work around it, especially when it comes to what I want and need to do for myself.
I told my mother that I realized that I reward myself with food because it is the only "luxury" I am afforded these days, and she said I should reward myself at the end of the day with some writing instead. The very people who sometimes stand in my way also give me a huge leg up a lot of the time.
As for Sarah's education, we read three different books three different times, and she is playing on her own, a valuable skill, and using her imagination, also a valuable skill. She's not reading War and Peace, but she doesn't need to. She can open a book about the nativity and spin a beautiful tale about Princess Aurora on a purple horse riding towards a tower that sparkles. Not bad for a three year old.
So, I screwed up the New Year's Resolutions so far. There is always tomorrow, and I can start afresh then. "Tomorrow is always fresh, with no mistakes in it...yet..." Maybe having "Eff it" as a philosophy is not always a bad thing...