I hate New Year’s Resolutions. “Lose Weight” or “Go To The Gym” or “Be Nicer To People” or “Take Up [Fill-in-the-Blank] Hobby” — all destined for failure on anyone’s list, especially that of the under-achiever. At the end of year (if not by February), the realization that nothing got scratched off is not only demeaning and unproductive, it’s just plain wrong.
I’m doing it differently.
Ten Things I Resolve to NOT DO in 2013
10. Bitch about my kitchen.
Because it looks like a complete remodel of the famously dysfunctional kitchen may be in order for the year, including 6 months of deconstruction and reconstruction, being displaced to an apartment or rental house during the process, and the ultimate canceling of our planned-in-advance Colorado summer vacation which would be going on at precisely the most critical time of the project, I’m afraid I’ll have to direct incessant
griping gentle suggestions in those arenas instead.
9. Volunteer more at school.
Once all the kids entered school, I thought I’d have lots of free time to catch on all the tasks and chores that piled up over the 10 years I was caring for young children at home. For some reason, saying “no” was not what I did best last last year. So following Junior Achievement ending in January, managing the annual carnival and fundraiser that pulls together in April, I will revert back to just the PTA board position in membership position for the second year — something I can do mostly from home.
8. Get a dog.
That furry little guy sure was fun, but what a distraction he was. I will continue to cross my arms and put my foot down whenever the question is asked: “Can we get a dog? Please, please, please? I promise I’ll take care of him.” Yeah, right. If your clothes were a dog, it’d be decomposing in your closet right now.
7. Labor tirelessly in my yard.
I will still plan to grow and eat edibles from our property. Aside from the annual mulching task which is just about done, planting an espalier orchard — hole-digging will be hired — and throwing a bunch of seeds in the ground after tossing yard debris into beds, I will let Mother Nature do what she does best — gardening and providing bounty for our tummies. Yes, ma’am. I’ll get out of the way and let you orchestrate. I won’t even boss you as you do it. (No, Scott…you’re still not off the hook.)
6. Give a damn how many of our spring peaches the woodpeckers and squirrels eat.
The red-shouldered hawks are setting up shop in our trees again this year, so in a short time, slow fat squirrels will become tasty morsels for hawklets. I can still throw rocks at crows on the fig trees because it’s just fun.
5. Obsess over the turf grass in my front yard.
I didn’t do it during the drought — to the dismay of the daily-watering neighbors — and I didn’t do it last year. Though our front lawn continues (even now in winter) to be the greenest, thickest turf in the ‘hood, I am somehow rewarded for my neglect. So be it.
4. Put trash to the curb for the landfill.
But I do reserve the right to steal others’ when it suits me. And I will continue being in charge of recycling materials myself, because a mandatory $250 a year to the city apparently does not include pick up of this kind. (I will also continue to hen-peck at the HOA to include this service in our future contracts. I can be a painfully persistent little bugger.)
3. Do every little thing for my kids when they ask it.
They are fully equipped with limbs, thumbs, and a brain. When one of them disrupts me to come do a menial task for him, I promise to uncross my arms, direct with loving authority from behind with instructional how-to’s, and no matter how big a mess he makes doing it the first time, cringe I will continue the mantra for my kids (as well as my sanity): “They are capable, compassionate people, they are capable, compassionate people…”
2. Go back and finish college.
I’ve moved this from my Resolutions List (it’s been there for 10 years). I’ll be too busy preparing a home-school curriculum for a middle-schooler come fall. And perhaps three others at the right time. But I can still read and learn to my heart’s delight, right?
1. Facebook, Twitter, or Pintrest.
Nearly one full year off Facebook (I’ve never been on Twitter or Pinterest) and here is what they offered me (from an-active-but-not-deactivated Facebook account) when I clicked “See Your 2012 Year in Review,” which was the only link on my blank personal page:
You don’t currently have enough posts to see your 2012 year in review.
Post something now or read Facebook trends from 2012.
Perhaps if they knew how to link to me on WordPress, they might just learn something useful (like the fact that targeting ads for someone who doesn’t shop or buy anything is just plain silly).