The Art of Beginning a New Year - Part II

Much of my inspiration comes from Ernie.

 

I wrote 12 resolutions this year.  I intentionally set out to write a dozen because I like the number 12.   There are  - -

• 12 days of Christmas
• 12  months in the year
• 12 people who have walked on the moon
• 12 letters in the Hawaiian alphabet & I remember really liking turning and being 12 years old.

 

I know you are thinking 12 is really ambitious and I should probably reread my post titled, "The Art of Beginning a New Year - Part I."  I want to set myself up for success and be a proud, card carrying member of the 15%  of people who actually keep their New Year's resolutions.  I made sure my resolutions were obtainable, valuable, and somewhat measurable.  I keep track of progress with tally marks on a rustic (i.e. not cute) chart I zipped up on my lunch hour.

 

Here are some of my resolutions:

 

I will work out two times a week.  Workouts can be 30 minutes and walking counts.  ("Old Me" would have insisted on working out for an hour, four to five times a week with an intimidating, unlikeable personal trainer thrown in.  "New Me" is mature enough to realize exercising twice a week is better than my current zero times a week.)

 

 

 

I will let my kids invite friends over at least once a month.  (This one is painful for me.  Let's face it.  I had kids later in life, I teach middle school, and am somewhat of an introvert.  This all adds up to me wanting to escape children during my free time, despite liking my kids' friends.  But I swear "New Me" can rally.  I figure all the friends can come over on the same day.  It will be like ripping off the Band-Aid in one quick yank.)

 

 

 

I will cook "Real Food" dinner at least three times a week.  This will piggyback on teaching my kids both manners and how to cook.  (Several weeks ago I ordered 100 Days of Real Food - Real Fast.  I have periodic panic attacks about not teaching my kids how to cook and not springing for organic milk.  Then I have  anger attacks because I have to do all the cooking and buy all the milk.  Rather than continuing my panic and anger attacks, I decided to be proactive and start cooking dinner with my family.  So far, the kids have liked all the recipes from 100 Days of Real Food and haven't whined about helping in the kitchen.  Wait, Lulu was repulsed by the beef chili and made herself a stack of delish, buttered carbs, I mean tortillas, instead.  There is always room for improvement.) 

 

 

 

We will have family game night twice a month and it has to last for at least an hour.  (I like playing games with the kids, especially since they have passed the Chutes and Ladder and Candy Land phase.  My oldest requested that I update our board game collection since he has been playing the same games for most of his life.  I found myself on Amazon ordering questionable games like: Betrayal at House on the Hill, Exploding Kittens, and Killer Bunnies.  This Saturday my parents are coming over for a game afternoon.  I am particularly thrilled because this allows me to meet yet another resolution - I will visit my parents, with my kids, at least one time a month.  Check and Check.)

 

 

In a brilliant move, I taped the resolutions to my bedroom door so I will remember them.  In past years I have written resolutions in notebooks, closed the notebook, and that was the end of those resolutions.  Accountability is very important with resolutions.  And, who better to keep me accountable than my own children?  I enjoy getting nagged about "Game Night" while brushing my teeth. 

 

I would LOVE to hear about your plans for 2017.

 

Prairie Eydie

 

P.S.  My 12 resolutions have all been approved by my friend, Ellen.  I can now safely say I will be among the 15% who are still working on their resolutions in March.  Not so sure about June.   

 

 

 

 

The Art of Beginning a New Year - Part I

 

 

We have all made it through the holidays.  I just finished packing away the last Yoda-Wearing-a-Santa-Hat ornament and throwing the remaining Christmas cookies in the outside trash can (I can't trust myself to throw cookies in the kitchen trash because I might fish them out during a 4:00 PM energy slump emergency.) 

 

Truth?  I am feeling bloated and not prepared for 2017.  It is that bitter cold time of year, in Wisconsin, when I rush home to put on my stretchy PJ pants and oversized, stained t-shirt. I have been spending hours watching Millie, our new kitten, play with her glitter balls.  Yes.  It is time to craft some 2017 resolutions.

 

 

 

 

Travel back in time with me to January 2013.  This was the last time I wrote resolutions.  My marriage was ending.  It was snowing A LOT and I had thrown out my back trying to start the snow blower.   Plus, my three kids still needed meals and snacks DAILY.  I was clearly overwhelmed. 

 

The ears and bow are cute and all, but I would run the marathon dressed as Snow White.

 

So I did what all overwhelmed people do, I started writing New Year's Resolutions.  And I did not stop at 1 or 2 paltry weight loss goals.  I crafted a detailed, 14 page narrative on how I would make 2013 the BEST year of my life.  I was finally going to finish writing a best selling novel while training to run a 1/2 marathon in Disneyland!  I would volunteer every week at Old World Wisconsin, living out my dream of wearing wool clothes in August while churning butter.   (Old World Wisconsin is a quick two and a half hour, round trip commute from my house.  I could learn a language while driving to and from my volunteer gig.) I would give my children swimming lessons in fresh water lakes while driving to the Grand Canyon.  Finally, I would take the remaining two classes to get my English degree.  (Beowulf and Advanced Grammar.  Never mind that I  got a D in Non-advanced Grammar.)

 

After I finished writing my resolutions, I called my friend, Ellen, to read them to her.  (You may remember Ellen from my "Hot Mess at Hot Yoga" posts.  She was the one who told me to get over myself because no one was looking at me attempting the "Tipping Bird" pose.  I can always trust Ellen's honesty, just as she can trust mine.  Ellen once ran her "Get Your Ass to Class" campaign by me.  She designed it to target all of her tardy students.  Her idea got two definitive thumbs down from me.) 

 

 

Luckily Ellen didn't have any plans for New Year's day since she had time to listen to my resolutions in their entirety.  After I finished reading and was gulping water to rehydrate, Ellen wasted no time in saying, "You can't do all of that!  It is all completely crazy."  Now, this could have been my "Rocky Moment" and I could have countered with, "Oh yeah?  I have 12 months to prove you wrong!"  But I heard the truth in her words and was relieved I didn't have to drive cross country with my kids.  I decided if I woke up every morning with enough sanity and energy to get through the day - that would be enough. 

 

Join me next time when I share my 2017 resolutions.  There are 12 of them, but I promise to keep them brief.

Happy New Year!  May your year be full of "Rocky Moments."

 

Prairie Eydie