So I did some math this morning. Don’t worry; I didn’t sprain my brain too badly. I got out the ol’ abacus AKA my fingers and determined that since it is now 2015 and I graduated from high school at the age of 18 in 2000, I have now been an adult for 15 years.
Fifteen years. That’s like a quarter of the shelf life of a box of Twinkies. My life and Twinkies are passing by before my very eyes.
When I was a newly-minted adult in the early 2000’s – ambivalent over whether I loved or hated “Lady Marmalade”, chatting on my flip phone, and completely convinced that The Royal Tenenbaums was the best movie that could ever be made so we should all just give up and go home – I didn’t make resolutions at New Years. If I wanted to change something, I changed it. No big whoops were given to the date. I flouted convention by making changes in March or August or even November. I grew up during the heyday of Madonna and this is just how I expressed myself.
Nowadays, as a seasoned grownup, I make New Years resolutions. With a marriage, a child, a job, and a life with about a million moving parts, I need to quantify all the things I want to do during the year in one sitting or my goals are just going to be stashed in the closet along with all the other things that I say I will get to at some point but never do. New Years resolutions aren’t necessarily fun, but they’re necessary. They are basically mammograms.
So let’s get to the boob-squishing, shall we?
In 2015, I resolve to….
1. Get in freaking shape
It’s kind of basic of me to put the whole “lose 30 pounds” resolution at the top of my list, but then again as I sit here writing this blog post I’m wearing yoga pants and sipping Starbucks. Let’s just call a spade, a spade.
Full disclosure: C is now almost three years old, and I have not lost the weight I gained during my pregnancy in 2011 and 2012. Not only that, but I have put on about 15 more pounds since I went back to work last summer. This year, I’m bringing healthy back. I’m phasing out the idle eating, exercising at least three times a week, and ceasing to “reward” myself with food for things that I should be doing anyway. Yeah, it’s great when I take the garbage out or whatever, but completion of this task does not merit a handful of candy.
Short term goal: run a 6K in May that benefits the nonprofit I work for. Hold me to it, y’all.
2. Get this blog in gear
I haaaaaaaate making editorial calendars. I would rather be the lone adult in a Chuck E. Cheese. But ever since I went back to work, I feel like I’ve been grasping at straws trying to a., find time and energy to write here, b., figure out what direction I want my own writing to go in, and c., take the pressure off and just enjoy writing like I used to when no one read my stuff.
Wait – what’s that noise? Do y’all hear it? Hmm, sounds like a tiny violin.
With blogging, there’s an undue amount of pressure we place on ourselves to post, to just get any damn thing up. This year, I’m not going to commit to posting once or twice a week. I’ve tried that, and it simply didn’t work. I am, however, going to commit to writing once or twice a week. When the post gets done, it will be ready and not sloppy or half-baked. It’ll be worth the time it took for me to write it. I’d love to get some of my writing featured on nationally syndicated blogs too this year, but we’ll see.
3. Get the house organizized/ move C to her big girl room
We have an extra room upstairs where we’d like to move C in 2015. Right now, her bedroom is right next to the kitchen, and so it’s hard for us to get anything done in there while she naps or sleeps without waking her up. It was an intentional decision to set up her shop there when we moved – at the time, she was too little to safely navigate the stairs by herself – but six months make a big difference and we’d like to get her upstairs this year. I’d like to repaint the walls to her new room, unearth the pretty hardwood floors that are currently carpeted, and even maybe paint a mural on one of the walls. She’ll also get a real bed. It would be awesome if all this could be done by next Christmas, and it could be her present.
In addition to her room, we also really need to just purge the attic. It gives me hives just thinking about all that needs to be organized up there, but it gives me hivier hives thinking about the ceiling in our house caving in because we are holding on to superfluous baby stuff.
So those are my super responsible big girl resolutions for 2015. Hopefully I’ll actually accomplish like 10% of what I’m resolving to do because I would hate to revert back to 18-year-old me and actually believe that Old Navy flip-flops count as dressy footwear.