Happy New-ish Year

Well, hey, y'all, and Happy New Year!

Can we still say, "Happy New Year"? I'm hoping we can string that out at least until February 1st because my Motivated/New/Improved 2018 Self is still trying really hard to continue being my Slacker/Lazy/Incredibly Introverted End of 2017 Self.

It doesn't help that at least as far as trying to get into a routine around here there were a lot of starts and stops in these first few weeks of January. I was really productive when the kids went back to school after the Christmas break for a whopping two whole days before the bomb cyclone or bombogenesis or whatever name Al Roker invented caused school to be closed here for three and a half days.

In the past few weeks we've had both a 70 degree day of mugginess and an 11 degree day with gusting wind during which I took my dog out before 7:00 am. This is when I wondered if I missed the memo that my Word of the Year for 2018 was apparently supposed to be HEROISM. The only good thing to come of this weather pattern was the one morning of ice which lead to the first youtube video of 2018 to cause me all manner of delight.



I first saw it on the page of a neighborhood facebook group of which I am a member, so I feel very proud of the local wife of this dude who saw fit to share it with the group and just as proud that it has now gone on to great success on all kinds of national shows. I absolutely cannot get enough of watching this.

PS He's fine, by the way, so watch and laugh as many times as you please.

Anyway, after I watched that poor guy about 40 times, I had all good intentions to come here this week and recap Christmas break 2017, but as we move farther into the month, those weeks seem to be a distant, fuzzy memory. Also, to be honest, I took exactly two photos the entire time and spent an enormous amount of time in my pajamas which does not lend itself to very exciting posts or photos.

Speaking of photos, I think my Christmas Card Saga pretty much explains how I was bringing lazy back during the holiday season. First of all, we had exactly two family photos to choose from for our Christmas card. It was slim pickins' but in the end I had to choose one in which Drew is not smiling because someone got really worked up and told him his smile in previous attempts was not good enough.

(Full Disclosure: It was me. Y'all. I'm not great at this parenting gig some days. Why must we stress our kids out over something like a dumb photo that ends up in someone's recycling bin after a day or two? In 2018, I hope to remember that we mamas can apologize to our children. And we must. I'm still apologizing for that one. Geez, take it down a notch, lady.)

Anyway, it didn't even matter in the end because after I thought I mailed my cards, I got at least half of them returned to my mailbox because I just flat out forgot to put stamps on a huge stack of them.

I mean, it was almost 2018, did we really still need to put stamps on cards? Who are we the Ingalls family? It seems this is something we should have moved past by now. By the time I got a big mess of them returned with a note that said "No Postage, Moron", I was knee deep in season 2 of The Crown and honestly didn't feel like stamping my cards because that would have required walking into another room, finding the stamps, peeling and sticking them to the envelopes and walking back out to the mailbox. Not to mention I would have to lift that flag thing up.  So I was all

Unfortunately, I wasn't wearing those white gloves. That would have been awesome though. Anyway, all that to say that I basically just threw them in the recycling bin and clicked "next episode" on The Crown. So if you usually get a card from me and didn't get one, don't be offended or hurt or whatever, just know that I fell into the couch and couldn't get up.

Also, Merry Christmas 2017 from the Skinners.

I have since removed myself from the couch, sort of, only to find that everyone and their dog is really into their new year's goals. I see beautiful Instagram photos depicting planning pages laid out on a Starbucks table strategically placed next to a skinny vanilla latte and a set of colorful pens at the ready for all manner of self-improvement ideas. I've heard of people coming up with their word of the year and setting up space for quiet time and exercising and eating right. Basically, everyone is killing it at being their best selves which makes me look around like this

This is the thing. I did buy a planner. I'm so excited by it. Look at how pretty it is with my pens.

Now look at the inside.

It's blank. Blankety blank blank. No goals, no tasks, no bucket list, no answer to "Where do you see yourself going?"

I love goals y'all. I really do. I love pens and planners and all of that living-with-intention business. I think it's important and valuable. And I intend to sit down and think about my year and my goals and dreams because they are definitely in me. 

But I'm trying really hard to do that on my time when I feel the Lord leading me to sit in prayer and to listen to what He requires of me and wants for me this year. We ought not forget that the "life coach" on the Today Show or the Instagram post by a motivated friend or the thought provoking prompts in our pretty new planner are not the boss of us. If they inspire you and help you that is great. But if they make you feel like you're not doing it right remember that your life is your life. January 1st is not a magic date. I am painfully aware that life is short and tomorrow is not guaranteed, but I don't think that all is lost for your year if you haven't planned your menu for the rest of the month and you can't quite pinpoint where you want to be in 5 years. 

Appreciate your day today. Start a new eating plan. Fix your ponytail and go run that mile. Clean out a closet. Read a book. Or, if you want to, go ahead and press "Next Episode."  Who's to say that finishing Season 2 of Last Chance U is not a worthy goal for today?

My new planner is waiting for me. And today I'm taking my cue from Scarlett O'Hara:

I'll think about that tomorrow.

Happy Newish Year, Friends.