Every year, as the weather starts getting colder and Starbucks breaks out the holiday coffee cups, I often start to think of resolutions I can make for the New Year. (Which often includes spending less on drive-thru coffee…) They often range from things I could do better (go to bed at a reasonable time), try harder at (eating healthy), and make more time for (working out.)
They typically involve grand plans of reforming my life in a dramatic way: I’m going to be healthy as a horse by working out five days a week. Or, I’m going to get rid of everything in our house that doesn’t have a purpose, because I’m a . Or, I’m never going to lose my patience again—I’m going to be calm and take a peaceful approach to every encounter I have with my children, because I’m a .
Oh, the interesting things she would write!
Well, wonder no more. I’m pretty sure these would be her exact resolutions if she was able to write them:
I'm going to stop throwing my Cheerios on the rug in the living room, I promise to only do that in the kitchen on the tile floor (where we can then step on them over and over and crunch them up into millions of tiny pieces...but it doesn’t matter cause we have a broom.)
I'm never going to trigger a code brown in the tub again. I’ve seen the distress on mom and dad’s faces and how they frantically shuffle about getting paper towels and plastic bags and lots of equipment. It just doesn’t seem worth it. I promise to clench my heinie and alert my mom or dad before time runs out.
I'm going to only get out of bed three times during the night as opposed to my average five. I will only request water instead of my typical chocolate milk (which always gets denied, anyway.)
I'm going to squeeze even more fun and joy out of every single day, which is hard to imagine, because I’m currently killin’ it in that department, but definitely doable, I think.
I’m going to request a king size bed. For mom and dad’s room. A queen is just not doing it for me. Mom says she’s falling off the bed whenever I sneak in there, which seems like it’ll start to be a problem for one of us eventually...
I’m going to start going to the bathroom on the potty instead of my diaper. Actually, that sounds very definitive. Maybe I will, maybe I won’t. I really can’t make any promises.
I am not going to melt down when one of my parents does something wrong. Like, why would mom give me a peanut butter sandwich when I asked for one? She knows I actually meant a granola bar. Actually, maybe this should be one of her resolutions, instead…
I am going to up my hugs and kisses game. Sometimes mom says, “Ooh my! That’s a lot of peanut butter on your face!” and looks scared as I’m going in to plant one on her. Maybe that is actually her excited face? I think she wants more kisses. And I should probably smear some jelly on my face, too.
I am going to try to fall right to sleep during instead of jumping around and making monkey noises and yelling for mom. She always says stuff like, “If someone told me to take a nap, I’d jump right into my bed! No questions asked!” I don’t know why she talks about sleep so much…
I am going to continue to speak out against the word ‘stupid’. My mom and dad say it’s a fresh word, and I will not tolerate hearing it in my presence. I will continue to fight the good fight and call people out on it when they use it. There is no room for that word in my life.
I am going to sing louder.
Be even funnier.
2018 is going to be great.