Resolve this!
Let’s be honest: Nobody really gives a shit about anyone else’s New Year’s resolutions unless they are somehow involved.
Mine are the same as the rest of the herd — improve my health; blah, blah, blah; create happiness; yada yada. (And obviously to write more, since the last time I updated this blog was September.)
But after being home with my tiny hellraisers amazing children over winter break, I’ve also got some sanity-saving parenting resolutions begging to be recorded, too.
Who knows? Maybe some of these ideas could even help you.
- Lock the door. I will not allow my bathroom privacy/moment of solitude/occasional hiding place to be disturbed anymore. Sure, they may end up fighting over, say, a strand of Princess doll hair they found on the ground, but nobody is going to bleed out in the time it takes me to pee.
Truth.
- Feel like a human. When kids are really little and you’re home alone, it isn’t always easy to get a shower because they might stick their tongue in a light socket or something. But my youngest is almost four, and dammit, that is old enough to chill with an episode of Paw Patrol while I become presentable. From here on out, I’m going to have clean hair AND shaved legs AND wear makeup — all on the same day.
OK, so I don’t dress like this every day — this was for a party. But choosing outfits and wearing makeup make me feel happy.
- Do a mirror spin. 2015 was filled with embarrassing, child-related fashion faux pas, including but not limited to: running grocery errands with a reindeer sticker cemented to my ass; Sofia stickers on the underneath side of my boob while on a lunch date with my daughter; and wearing mascara on only one eye because I got distracted by kids during the application process. I. Will. Check. The. Mirror.
Untold amounts of people witnessed my reindeer ass last winter.
- Protect my music. Guarantee: if there’s a song I like to dance to and the kids hear it, they will wear it out by the end of the week. Trust me, people. I can tell you exactly how many times you can play Uptown Funk en route from my house to IKEA: 11.5. That’s right. ELEVEN AND A HALF. 23 round trip. If I’m not careful, this song will be my next casualty.
Please don’t ruin my Missy Elliott song for me, kids.
- Drink less wine. Oh, wait. Nevermind. I guess I only have four resolutions for right now.
Mommy’s little helper.
Happy New Year, y’all!
The Wild Rumpus 