I can’t believe it’s almost the end of the year. With all that’s happening this month, I know that it’ll go by quickly. As I’m trying to procrastinate as much as I can before the new year, I’m thinking about my 2010 New Year’s resolutions.
Resolution #1: Clean a little each day. Imperfectly is OK.
At our most recent Thanksgiving dinner, I was reminded by my uncle’s snarky wife that I don’t clean very well. (She was referring to the army of guests who were kind enough to wash and put away the dishes, cooking and eating utensils for me to express their gratitude for dinner—my SIL, the speed-demon dish washer, being at the helm at the sink as her daughter and her college friends were collecting, scraping, drying, and putting things away.) What Uncle’s snarky wife’s purpose was to announce that fact, I do not know. But I hope it helped her digest her food better.
I would be the first to admit that I am not a fastidious, no-speck-of-dust kind of hausfrau. I take pride in my organized clutter and the stretches of time during which I encourage the dust bunnies to mate and mingle, so I can clean them out at a certain point, enough to elicit a “wow” from family members when they least expect it.
Contrary to popular belief, I AM a good cleaner, just not one to do it every moment of every day. Because there is so much more to do. Like have a life. Take care of my family. Work. My problem is that I am a cleaning perfectionist. As HB likes to say, “If you aren’t going to do it right, don’t bother doing it at all.”
I guess a simple solution is to try to clean in 10 to 15-minute sprints throughout the day and figure out a nice incentive program to get the Princess to pick up after herself. And, hire a cleaning lady/service to set up a baseline for me to keep up each month. But really, what was Uncle’s snarky wife’s point in announcing to one and all that I cannot clean very well?
Meanwhile, as I tried to direct traffic, Uncle’s snarky wife was busy trying to get me to fetch her something for her headache as well as telling me that I needed to distribute the apples that she had brought to all my guests. These were not exotic apples, handpicked by specially-trained monkeys on a remote island, but your common golden variety that you can find at the grocery store.
I remember just looking at her blankly—sleep deprivation and annoyance could do that to a person—so she said, “Don’t you understand what I’m saying? Give those apples to your in-laws.” I’m thinking, “If those damn apples are so important to you, why don’t you do it yourself. Or, are you afraid of making contact with pesticides?” Instead of saying anything, I just smiled and walked away.
Resolution #2: Don’t get upset over little things; let go. Or just GO.
My other resolution? Not to get upset over little things—like rude people. And also to let things slide, because in the big scheme of things, they don’t matter. Hence, this blog post. It reminds me of a scene in a movie (I can’t remember the title), in which people leave their secrets/confessions in a tree. Instead of killing a tree with my secrets and vitriol, I’ve decided to vent through my blog.
It feels pretty good because I know there’s little chance of Uncle’s snarky wife reading, let alone whining, about my announcing to the world about her irrational fear that one of my guests would steal or go through her $3,000 Louis Vuitton purse. (Why bother even bringing such a purse to a family gathering if you’re worried about it getting stolen/probed?) The crazy lady wanted to put her purse in our master bedroom for safekeeping—perhaps as an excuse to check out the upstairs, I’m sure.
Resolution #3: Write more. I shall think of writing as low-budget therapy, which is probably better than retail therapy or food therapy. There’s the blog and Nanowrimo. I ought to try making each month “National Novel Writing Month” and try to write 50k words a month. Maybe one day the words will convert themselves into dollars.
Resolution #4: Be grateful for what I have.
I am grateful that I don’t have to live with Uncle’s snarky wife and that I don’t have to see her more than once a year, if at all.
Resolution #5: Eat healthier and exercise more.
I am not fond of vegetables (I might even go as far as saying that I am slightly lachanophobic—have a fear of vegetables—thank you, April), but cooking for Thanksgiving dinner reminded me that there are ways I could sneak more vegetables into my diet—via mashed sweet potatoes, spinach dip, pasta salad, pumpkin pie. Perhaps I can challenge myself to actually go through my many cookbooks and cooking magazines to find veggie-centric recipes and give them a chance. The challenge is finding a veggie recipe that is dairy-free. (I don’t think it’s accidental that people load up their veggies with butter, cheese, or creamy dressing.)
I also thought of a way to cut down sweets and/or to exercise more. For each cookie or sweet I eat, I’ll need to do 10 sun salutations, a walk/sprint around the block, vacuuming or mopping for 15 minutes, or physical fitness equivalent. Ideally, I’ll either find myself exercising more or eating less sweets—a win-win scenario in either case.
Resolution #6: Try something new.
As my dad says, “Experiment and experience.” That’s what I need to do. Not necessarily cliff dive or ride a motorcycle—although having a shirtless Taylor Lautner by my side might make me reconsider. (I can’t believe I went to see New Moon.) I was thinking of a Jim Carrey movie that I reluctantly saw, Yes Man. His character gets brainwashed to believe that bad things happen if he says “no,” so he ends up saying “yes” to everything and his life changes for better—and worse—until he learns to find balance. Although I found the movie annoying at certain parts, I did like the message, which was keep an open mind and live a little.
So there you have it. I’m sure I’ll think of more as the month wears on. What are your resolutions?