“I made no resolutions for the New Year. The habit of making plans, of criticizing, sanctioning and molding my life, is too much of a daily event for me. ”
― Anaïs Nin
It is day two of 2022.
I’m still getting used to saying “2022”. I feel as though it’s been sprung upon me, like I didn’t know it was coming.
I was born in 1993 and 2022 still seems ridiculous to me. I can’t imagine how my Dad, born in 1943 must feel.
The New Year means goal setting and resolutions for many. I don’t really do resolutions any more. They’re just another thing to potentially break therefore “fail” at. It’s all too much pressure. Life is hard enough already.
I did however set Joel a resolution of not saying the c word for an entire month. (I was getting tired of hearing it.) He resisted at first but soon gave in, with one condition, that I no longer use the word “annoyed”. (Apparently I go to him saying “I’m so annoyed” then expand on WHY I am so annoyed, too often.) Deal.
We have also agreed we’d like to try and fit in more exercise, in the form of running. A common goal for this time of year. (Not a resolution as such, just an intention.) This is only possible if we tag-team taking care of the children, which will mean setting our alarms half an hour earlier twice a week. (Realistically, twice a week is probably all we’ll manage. If that.)
So if all goes to plan, we’ll be swearing less and moving more by the end of January.
Of course, although I won’t be setting hardcore goals, I do have a few things I’d quite like to do, (list here, in previous blog post) including reading, writing, painting and spending more one to one time with Maia.
Then there’s the old favourite: “Learn how to meditate, proceed to do this, every single day forever.” Which I say at the turn of every year and never do.
So instead of a list of all the things I want to change, here are a few things that won’t be changing:
1.) My commitment to sugar:
My dentist: “What’s your sugar intake like?”
Me: “Ridiculous.” *
Despite my dentist querying my diet, I have no interest in attempting to lower my sugar intake. Sugar is my drug of choice. I don’t smoke, I don’t drink, I don’t even get to binge watch Netflix when I’m tired. But what I can do is shove multiple chocolate biscuits into my face at 9pm and at various other points of the day. I’m a full-time parent and I’m exhausted so give me the biscuit.
I’ve begun each day over the last week working my way through a giant chocolate chip pannetone. The vegan can’t help me and it’s too sweet for the children. So I’m on my own. Too good to be wasted.
(*That dentist visit actually went surprisingly well, she said I needn’t have been quite so honest about the sugar and I’d have gotten away with it.)
2.) My commitment to social media.
I like Instagram. For a few minutes, every day, it takes my mind on a journey that helps quiet the incessant stream of chatter that is otherwise present all day long.
Depending on my mood I can actually be quite good at not getting lost in Instagram rabbit holes, mindlessly endlessly scrolling, absorbing everything and nothing and feeling a bit numb.
I enjoy discovering new accounts that for whatever reason, make me feel good. Creatives encouraging other creatives.
Mothers with real, unpolished photos sharing their experiences in an honest and vulnerable way.
Anyone who makes me laugh.
If I’m too tired to read, I will scroll, and that is absolutely fine.
3.) My commitment to painting the walls of this house.
I love it so much. I am off to Homebase today for more tester pots.
In February we are having our front door painted and we are going bold. There is no door on our road this colour and I can’t wait. I just want to paint everything.
4.) My commitment to breastfeeding our toddler.
Leo is nearly 17 months. We’re still going strong. Yes he pulls my top up and gets annoyed when I say “no, not right now..”. But that’s just him expressing a feeling. And me setting a boundary. I am fine with all of this.
5.) My commitment to the laundry.
This sounds silly, but it’s a thing. The division of household chores is a thing. I do the laundry, Joel clears the kitchen every night (washing up included), and we both do various other bits around the house. But laundry is solely my domain and I have accepted this. All I ask is he unfurl his socks please.
The Colourful Kind 