New Year’s Day is over. We never got around to taking down the Christmas tree or finding places for all of Dylan’s new toys. We never left the house, never changed out of pajamas, thanks to about eight inches of new snow.
That is a lie, actually, I did shower and change into new, clean pajamas.
I’m not really big on resolutions. They never work out. Always too vague (to be a better wife, a better mother, what does that even mean anyway?) Too ambitious. Too destined to fail. And how many times can I resolve that this will be the year I lose ALL of my extra weight?
More than resolutions, I love the chance to reflect on the past year. 2007 brought me so many great things that I never even thought to hope for. Finding and embracing a new healthy lifestyle for good. Watching my baby grow into a toddler, a little boy. Date-nights with my husband, and making an effort to make them worthwhile since we’re paying a babysitter.
I love the anticipation of what the coming year will bring, hoping it will be the greatest yet, better than the last. These hopes are what resolutions are really about. That this year will FINALLY be the one I get writing, buy a house, lose that damn weight! It has to happen sometime, and this year is as good as any, right? And that is why people make resolutions. It’s nice to have hopes. It’s even nicer to hope for the unknown things that will come this year, the wonderful surprises that you can’t even imagine yourself wanting until you have them. I can’t wait to find out what those things are.