Friday, January 6, 2012

Anti-resolution

This past year has been a blur.
I had thought to do some lovely little recap of my 2011 highlights and then make a few resolutions for 2012 but I don't think I can.

I see 2011 in bits and pieces when I close my eyes. It's a small montage of Polar Plunge and Munchkin birthdays and everyone reproducing and babies everywhere. It's The Munchkins'  very first road trip vacation and the annual canoe trip and zombiewalk and a significant amount of sewing on my part. It's a lot of exposure to the kidlets and far too little to the other various important people over the course of the year anywhere other than in my own living room.  I feel like, after a few years of finally coming out of my bubble and being social I took two giant steps backward this past year.  I lost my weekends off. And, while it meant additional time with The Munchkins, it also meant an increase in their attitude and a significant decrease in my patience levels. I have not been the parent I wanted to be this year. And I find myself being resentful more than I would like. And tired. And grouchy. And I don't know  how to fix that without taking some time off to myself. Which isn't going to happen any time soon.

And now, as I gaze out into what will be 2012, I am terrified.

My touchstone is moving. Permanently. And I have put off thinking about it until I absolutely have to. Because, frankly, putting a deadline on things makes it all too real. And while I do well with deadlines on projects, I do not do well with deadlines on relationships. So I have stubbornly, benignly, and in all other ways ignored the fact that he's leaving as much as humanly possible. I am, plainly speaking, going to be a mess.

So I'm putting off making any resolutions until January passes on, and the rest of my heart with it.

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