I don't normally do resolutions. I think I stopped that particularly annoying habit somewhere around my 16th or 17th year at which point I realized:
hey, it's kinda ghey to only focus on self-improvement for the first 3-6 (depending on your motivation level) weeks of the year and let the rest go to pot.
my resolutions usually come about (in one way, SHAPE, or form) round about the time it gets too warm for pants.
I take one look at my (perpetually) chubby white thighs and start thinking fitness. I usually drop 5 or 10 pounds with the warmer weather, increase my general activity level (it's easier to climb withOUT ice) and go about my merry business until the dark starts creeping back in before my climbing partner gets off of work...then general malaise inevitably seeps in.
such it is.
HOWEVER, since I seem to be stuck in a general state of malaise for the last year and half or so...I gotta switch some shit up.
pregnancy and breastfeeding (particularly both at the same time) have REALLY sapped my energy and cramped my damn style. without climbing, riding, skiing and general romping about on a consistent basis...
I have turned into one downright ornery and nasty BIOTCH.
in my defense, however...I WAS looking at this providing undivided attention to a small child thing as a relatively temporary situation. The Prof is getting older, I was starting to get excited about school, job, training, etc...ie. getting some "me" time, again...
when, lo and behold, our dumbasses got knocked up, again.
plan B. I see now that I have GOT to find a way to "stabilize my mood" without the full commitment to going ballzout that I used to be able to give it.
in other words...at 32 years of age...I must learn to juggle.
so juggle, I will (well, at least I'll TRY once I stop hacking up a lung).
thusly and therefore, I've decided to make some life-changing, sanity-saving (recovering?) resolutions:
1. I will make The Prof's food BEFORE he wakes up as often as possible. the lil bastard is unbearable when hungry, and he's obviously STARVED the moment he awakes. sooo...to avoiding wanting to puncture his dome...momma's gonna freeze some veggies, stock up on frozen waffles and stick some food in the lil shit's mouth the second he gets up. buys me some "thinking time" and def improve our relationship (can you tell I just fought my way through lunch with the little ingrate?)
2. step away from the devil's box. the happiest years of my life were those WITHOUT cable. other than the toddler music channel and the nursery rhyme videos...I can totally live without it. it is pointless, time consuming and makes me hate my life (guilt, guilt, guilt). I'm gonna craigslist some kid videos (COMPLETELY NECESSARY DON'T YOU DARE JUDGE ME!!!) and tell comcast to suck one. oqui will very likely have an anneurism, but his lazy ass hasn't taken the trash out in 10 days...so as far as I'm concerned, he has no acceptable argument here.
3. do something creative....nuff said.
4. do something physical. last weekend we hit the climbing gym and, not gonna lie here, my harness HURT. I know some women climb until they're 8cm dilated...but I'm obviously not that chick. with my history of early contractions, bleeding and generally being a pussy while I'm pregnant, I'm gonna need something a little more appropriate. I hate yoga...so I'm still ISO my perfect exercise. I used to walk a good 2 hours a day (the Prof, fortunately for me, LOVED his stroller) which was great for shedding the last 5 or so baby pounds...but didn't do shite for the now non-existant back muscles. since I haven't so much as walked around the block in 4 months (did I mention how much I HATE being pregnant?)...a little stroll to the park in the witch's tit cold is definitely a start...unfulfilling...but it'll be a start. I'm also, for some strange reason, feeling the tap dance vibe...but don't hold your breath on that one.
5. do something educational. I want to learn a new skill. I'm thinking lampwork (ie. flame and glass sculpting) or maybe the ukulele. whatever it is...I want it to be novel and fun.
6. do something productive. job, maybe? I know that's aiming high. I didn't sleep more than 45 minutes straight after the Prof was born and I can't imagine my odds improving with TWO leeches to contend with, but...optimistically speaking...I can at least prep and plan for an EVENTUAL return to the work force. perhaps research real estate? do some computer classwork? work on honing my resume lies? either way...I'm too sexy to spend the rest of my days knee deep in baby poo...so I'll at the very least do some serious thinking about my options.
7. start a garden. no excuses. I come from farmer stock. there is no reason on this planet I should not be planting, tending, harvesting and canning my own food. I intend to cut my trips to the grocery store in half. I'll regret this come august when I refuse to leave the house for anything other than a midnight stroll to the freezer section of the supermarket...but, it shall be done, nonetheless. I'll just have to weed by candlelight.
8. regain my personal sense of style. the fact that my entire wardrobe is "functional" is no longer acceptable. there will be stripes, possibly glitter and some pink shoes.
9. more campfires, sunsets and gurgling mountain brooks. ahhh. that's the stuff.
10. do at least one thing (good book, warm bath, red toe nails, etc)...one single, solitary, special thing for myself every single damn day.
no point in letting the sprouts COMPLETELY suck my soul out, right?
11. take more pictures. this baby is wicked cute. just in case he grows up fugly...I should document the cutitude now. just saying.
besides...nothing funnier than looking back on the drunken saki pics (hotdog, anyone) oqui and I used to take. *meow*
12. start living up to at least 10 or 11% of my potential. I'm wicked smart, yo.
13. find some motivation to do a few of the things (big and small) that I dream. this will probably involve caffeine...and I'm ok with that.
I'll keep y'all posted on how well this actually goes.