Sometimes to keep my sanity when it comes to managing what’s on my plate, I declare for myself a new reality. If you are a judger, and I’m hoping you are not, you might call this looney behavior, and I would understand your concern as I’m sure there is a line somewhere for concern. But chances are you do something similar and if so, high five to you. Woohoo!
It just helps me to name, or rename, things if that line item on my list has taken up residence, or my life has me stuck. Such as: loosing weight is my new part-time gig, or going to a coffee shop by myself two times a week is part of my job as a mother. You get the idea. It always starts with the truth about my reality and what I might need or want, and that I’ve found is a very good place to start.
So in the spirit of this and my reality, my new year hasn’t started yet. I’m toying with Feb 1. It gives me enough time to a) have an anniversary date which includes a “new years” conversation with Tim and b) put away my Christmas decorations before Valentines Day is here, seriously.
The story is, between Christmas and New years I got sick (along with everyone else I know) and this included my anniversary. But this happened after, not before, I pulled all the kids’ rooms apart in December, boxed up and ready to move and repaint. And then I proceeded to do Nutcracker week and Christmas by putting it on hold for two awesome weeks of pure fun and parties.
But on January 1 when the 4th one of us (me) went down with the flu, I just looked around and cried lots of hot tears. My house was a disaster and I was not even close to being rested and ready for the new year. Which for me included a new semester of teaching, no new fresh spaces to be cooped up in for the next cold dark months, and a very long list of projects unfinished. Blech.
That was until I took the unnecessary pressure off and declared it NOT the new year yet. I feel much better. Just saying.
So, I’ve been inching along, getting our rhythm back, teaching the kiddos, painting furniture, getting rid of things I don’t love in my house anymore, going through box after box of my kids’ rooms from the last 10 years, thinking through the new year that is yet to come over here (wink) and choosing not to believe that life is slipping through my fingers. Because it is, and it isn’t. Sigh. If I live into the first thought, all I do is run after it and forget this moment I’m in. Just because I should be somewhere doesn’t mean I am, you know what I mean? Yes, it’s January 17th, and yes Christmas is over. But for me and in my head, the new year isn’t here quite yet and I need a bit more space before turning the page.
So, I’m going to write a few posts that I started in December, ones I don’t want to forget. I’ve been here before, and it helped. And sometimes you just have to go back to what you know works.
A friend just met me at the coffee shop and reminded me the Chinese New Year is February 10th. Someone want to tell Tim our anniversary is February 8th this year? Perfect. Thanks.