January 3, 2012

Dear Babies,

How about this for a New Year’s resolution: I will make no resolution.

Surely you could use some!, one would say to which I would be the first one to agree, oh I am so far from perfect! But of all the years of resolutions, of vowing this is it, this is year! The year to lose five pounds, to exercise everyday, to stop drinking so much (only to have a bloody mary in had by 11:00 a.m. New Year’s morning Kathie Lee and Hoda-style, argh, argh, argh), maybe to work more, maybe to work less, to cook more, to do this, to not do that, and definitely, most certainly, stop doing that! This is the year I want to do just that: stop.

Everyday I’m always trying to be better. Everyday, I want things to be better. For you. For me. For the world.

While I won’t stop trying (especially when it comes to career goals, which even though with each passing day being a published author feels more pie-in-the-sky, I still believe in my heart that something is going to happen, maybe even this year), I also see how one way to be “better” is to be more content. To stop trying to be so perfect. To stop trying to be normal. Poof. Those things don’t exist. It’s a waste of time. See?

Oh how I could resolve many things. To turn off that mind-suck of information out there and not read Reality Steve’s predictions on who Ben F. is going to choose on the Bachelor 16 (The Bachelor 16! And they’re casting for another one!) instead of doing something “productive” once you guys finally go down for your naptime.

But Happy New Year, 2012. I contribute to the sad state of our reality-tv-show-loving noosphere, and I must be content with that. Today, tomorrow, everyday. This is me, my own blank page. Extra five pounds, bloody mary, Reality Steve and all.

Love,

Mom

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