I've spent all day thinking about resolutions and what I'm going to write here. It began as a short list, manageable, both in writing and in life, and then like most things, I started to overthink it. It began to grow and soon I was giving it categories and planning a multi-day post about how this year was going to be my year. It dawned on me that I'd probably spend the entire month of January writing about how I was going to change my life and I wouldn't actually be starting until February.
I want the same things most people want: I want to be a better mom, wife, daughter, friend, person. I want to cook more and eat in restaurants less. I want to put my new stand-up mixer to good use. I want to be more patient, more organized, less forgetful, less stressed. I want to spend less, save more, and still have the things we need on a daily basis. I want to lose weight. I'd like to read more, watch better movies (but still watch Twilight two or three times a week for my Robert Pattinson fix), hear new music, hear live music, get out of the house regularly, grow out my hair (or maybe cut it even shorter, I'm undecided on this one), take more (and better) pictures, clip my toenails more often, clip my boys' toenails more often, clean more but have to do it less often, win the lottery...
Wait, this is resolutions not wishes. Sorry.
But you can see where I'm going with this. So this year, I resolve to make no official resolutions. I'm just going to be me, only better.
As if that's even possible. (Heheheh...)