Resolutions, Shmesolutions

I survived the holidays and couldn’t take down my Christmas decorations fast enough. I put them up rather early, but by Dec. 26, I feel like they’re closing in on me- I call it Santa Claustrophobia. It’s such a nice feeling to have my space back. Now, if I could only get my kids back to school.

Today is the last day of their break. Thank God. I don’t know how much longer I could take it.

I wonder if once we get back into a ‘normal’ routine, if I will have the ability to write. I doubt it. It’s not for lack of trying or fodder, I assure you. Just the opposite, actually. When I sit down, I don’t even know where to start, there’s just so much. But then, without fail, my attention gets diverted to reading toxicity levels on the back of the diaper ointment, calling Poison Control, or cleaning up blood or puke- seriously, all of these things have happened in the last 18 hours. This baby is a human wrecking machine, but luckily, he’s also just about the cutest and most entertaining thing ever.

Besides the stress of my everyday life, I have been inundated with New Year’s resolutions on Facebook, positivity galore and an overall feeling of my own inadequacies. The New Year has overwhelmed me. All of its goddamn expectations of starting from scratch and being productive and healthy, truly causes more anxiety than I can handle.

Of course, I’d like to lose weight and get healthy. Of course I’d like to be nicer and curse less (like that’s gonna happen.) There’s a lot of things on my list of things that I would like to change, but those things don’t change because of a date on the calendar.  Putting them out there, formally and officially leave so much room for failure, regret, disappointment and excuses and I don’t need that kind of pressure right now.

So, my New Year’s Resolution is to not have a resolution and to just keep getting through to the next day and keeping this baby from killing himself.