I don’t normally post about resolutions. I rarely post about anything terribly personal at all, but one of my resolutions is to do a bit more of that at the request of a few readers. I’ll get into that a bit more later, in the meantime, this is what I’m gonna do in oh nein:
– get the new website (a gift from the mister) up and running by the end of this month.
– lose 10 pounds and get my great legs back (we’re starting small here).
– reacquaint myself with visual arts in practice and not just in theory. I will produce and display 5 serious works, not just doodles, between now and the end of the year.
– I will finish painting the trim in the house.
– I will get my house in good-enough-for-a-visit-from-dad shape and keep it that way for at least two consecutive months.
– I will blog more recipes.
And now for the sticky one: I will make my blog more personal. As I said before, this is by request. I get asked quite a bit to blog more about parenting experiences and anecdotes I have no hesitations about relating in real life in the right company. Truth is, I’m kind of scared shitless to do it. It’s that kick in the ribs by the celtic ancestry which dictates that putting it down in written form commits it to the encyclopaedic memory and brings on the gestalt. It’s also the sense of disenfranchisment from the rest of the parenting world which comes with being the girl too busy giving birth to write her OAC French exam, even though I got a 94% in that course without the exam and the kid is still alive. It’s also because I find so many bloggers who write about their personal lives entirely insufferable with inflated martyr syndromes, save a handful (like this person, and this person, and this person). I don’t want to be an insufferable, dripping sap with nothing better to share but stunted poetry about unmet, exceedingly high expectations which were never communicated through anything but passive aggression in the first place.
Even though I’m scared shitless I’ll do it anyway because I’m goign to be 33 in 6 days and it’s time I grew the hell up and realise that I’m not a teen mom anymore, that I’ve been around the block a couple of times and that I’ve got a debt to pay to all those other uncensored parents out there who shared and made me a better person for it. I’ve grown a 13 year old and an 11 year old. I bought a house when I was 20 and put myself through post-secondary school after that. I’ve been married and am almost divorced (after almost 8 years after separation – I’ll be sad to lose my matrimonial prophylactic) with narry a lawyer in the scene and maintain a working relationship with the baby daddy. I guess I’ve got a bit to share so I will. All y’all are responsible for telling me if I’ve become insufferable. Deal?