I’m sure you made a few New Year’s resolutions while you were slightly inebriated and tired on New Year’s Eve. If you’re like me, your resolutions are already unsustainable. You know that quote, “If you shoot for the moon and miss, you’ll land among the stars”? Yeah, I’m probably not leaving the Earth’s atmosphere. The following resolutions are real and they were created after I realized my limitations. If you have discovered that your resolutions aren’t cutting it, please consider adding one or two of these to your list now. Consider them your supplemental “real life” resolutions.
Remember to clean out the lint filter in the dryer.
I know this should be a simple task, but I always get interrupted while I’m throwing the clean clothes into a basket. Apparently, I’m going to start a fire if I forget even once, and my dryer will stop working — which in our house isn’t good. There are only so many clothes that can hang on the treadmill.
Stop replying to text messages in my head.
I have no friends. Do you know why? I failed to respond to a text message they sent because I had an entire reply composed in my head that I failed to send. Now I’m racked with guilt because they probably think I’m mad at them, and I don’t know what to say and everything sounds like an excuse and it’s easier to just be friendless and alone than deal with all this drama.
Drink my coffee before it gets cold.
All moms have lost their coffee only to find it six hours later, cold, in the microwave. One day a week, I commit to ignoring my children and drinking a cup of coffee locked in my closet.
Match up all the socks in the house.
Every single time I have collected, washed, sorted and thrown away odd socks, I find another one in the middle of the floor. It’s as if they are intentionally trying to drive me crazy.
Stop screaming like a maniac that we’re late in front of the neighbors.
We are late everywhere. It’s a personal foible connected to my unalterable belief that anything can be completed in five minutes when in reality almost nothing can be completed in five minutes. Also, yelling does not seem to speed the process in any shape, form or fashion. I’m simply reminding my neighbors that a crazy, loud mother with her unruly brood lives in the vicinity.
Stop buying organizers, planners and gadgets that I imagine will convert me from a hot mess into a domestic goddess.
Long before Marie Kondo became popular with her expensive boxes and folding methods, I dreamed of an organizing tool that would fix my untidiness forever. After all these years, and many foolish purchases, I should know that this magical device does not exist. There is nothing that will save me from the Jumanji level of destruction in my home.
Stop letting bananas go black.
When I buy bananas I do complicated mathematics. I study the size and quantity of bananas in order to prevent the waste of even one. And yet, I somehow always have too many bananas. Do they multiply? Does the last banana send out a signal to my children that repel them from its consumption? Why are they yellow when I go to bed and completely black the next morning?
Stop letting the kids have my phone when they’re annoying.
I need to remember that nothing is more annoying than wrestling my property back from a toddler only to discover, right when I need it, that the battery is dead. They also cover it in sticky fingerprints that make it cling to my cheek like an adhesive.
Fill my gas tank before the gas light comes on.
I think I am subconsciously trying to give myself a heart attack so that I can rest in the hospital. The adrenaline and stress I experience while sitting at a red light, watching my miles to empty counter drop to zero, is unfathomable. Why am I so reckless and cavalier, imagining that I am somehow immune from the laws of mechanics? Am I testing the limits of God?
Set my expectations lower.
I need to keep this resolution even if I forget all the others. Whatever bar I have set, for my children, my spouse, or myself, it must be untethered from my self-worth. I am OK if I don’t succeed at everything. It’s OK if I can’t find a sock, my house is a mess, or if we aren’t like other families. Love covers a multitude of sins.
I hope my babies can chuckle at us someday and remember that life is perfectly imperfect. Everything will be ok if we just take a breath and laugh.
Do you have any other real resolutions I should add to the list? Please let me know. And send help in the form of encouragement and camaraderie.