the pieces of my life

I wake up every morning these days hungover. Headache. Fuzziness. Dry mouth. Which I wouldn’t mind, if I had actually been drinking. Which I haven’t been. So it must be winter. We really need a humidifier.

I had fully intended on doing a bit o’ new year’s reflections, but my plans were thwarted because Adam no longer keeps an at-home work computer. Being tied to my desktop means that I don’t blog. Because if I’m at my desk, the kids aren’t home. And if the kids aren’t home, I’m working on the novel, not writing to you (nothing personal). We’ve budgeted a new laptop for me in March, so perhaps there will be more blogging then. I’m here now because Adam–and his laptop–are home from work and I can use his laptop during his naptime. Truth be told, though, you don’t even have my full attention now, because I’ve discovered the United States of Tara on demand, and I’m working my way through them at this moment. I can try, though, when Toni Collette isn’t distracting me.

My father will quickly dispute that 2010 is not the start of a new decade, but considering I am a sheep, I counted 2000 as the start of the millennium. How odd is it that 1/1/00 doesn’t seem long ago at all. I remember new year’s so clearly, my annual party at Barb and Steve’s, hanging out with Pam, who was a brand new friend from my night-shift stint at a warehouse in McDonough, Georgia, a dry town that housed one of Amazon’s brand new “distribution centers.” I lived alone in Seattle in a small house I had just bought myself three months before. I was not only single (well, sort of single–I was a profuse dater), I hadn’t even met Adam yet (actually, we’ve pieced together that perhaps we had met once, but neither of us registered on the other’s radar). I was still–on paper–an Internet millionaire. I’d just done my first triathlon and I didn’t know it, but in another month, I’d be training for my first and only major bike ride–a double century (in a day when it wasn’t sponsored and was much more rugged–really!).

And now? Well, if you’re here, you know the now. In some ways, I feel like I’ve lived so many lives. New York me. Grad school me. Kibbutz me. Seattle me. And now haus frau me. Each is so distinct and feels so separate and yet so integral to who I am.

So what’s next? Every year I make fairly elaborate new year’s resolutions. Some I keep; most I don’t. I read somewhere that instead of new year’s resolutions you should pick one word to represent the year ahead. I decided to go with this idea. But then I had to come up with a word. What word? At first I thought “focus.” I need to focus on my novel, focus on better eating, focus on the moment. But that didn’t quite encapsulate what I was looking for. So I went with “order.” I want my life in order. Um, no. Passion? Too cheesy. Awareness? Too Zen. Drunk? Closer, but not quite it. So I think this is the year I go resolutionless. And let’s see what I can accomplish.

If only I could get rid of this hangover. Or get a humidifier. Does that count as a resolution? Moisture. Hmmm. Could work…

I’d like to start tonight with a scene from Stop N Shop this afternoon. My three-year-old daughter is sitting in the cart. We’re shopping.

Pie: Mommy! Can I get more yogurt?
Me: Sure. Would you like grown-up yogurt or kid yogurt?
Pie: Um, grown-up yogurt.
Me: Okay, would you like strawberry or blueberry or peach?
Pie: I want the brown yogurt.
Me [I pick up the chocolate yogurt and check out the 37 grams of sugar]: No, sweetie, not the brown yogurt.
Pie: I WANT THE BROWN YOGURT!
Me [trying to distract]: How about a kid yogurt? I see Dora and Diego over there.
Pie’s eyes widen.
Pie: Hannah Montana! I want Hannah Montana yogurt! Please, Mommy, can I have Hannah Montana yogurt?

So, yes, my daughter is the proud owner of six (wait, she ate one already so make that five) Hannah Montana yogurts. I still don’t know how she knows Hannah Montana.

All of that, by the way, is completely irrelevant to this evening’s post. I had intended to write more about the Miami trip, but as the skies are clouding up and the air has that unmistakable smell of snow storm (what is that smell anyway? How is it you really can smell a storm coming in?), Miami seems years and years ago and I can only vaguely conjure up the peace of daily ice creams, on-call babysitters, sunshine on the boat, and the camaraderie of old friends.

Instead I am faced with a new year, but the same old me. Every year I make resolutions, and last year, I failed miserably on most, but made progress on a few. Not that I’d tell you all the resolutions, but I can name a few…

• More kid time: This one is going fairly well. I try to make time each day with each kid to spend one-on-one with. It’s harder with the school schedule–I definitely get more one-on-one time with Pie, but I’ve been working on it with Doodles, trying to read more with him, have him read to me, work on his writing. But I definitely get more time reading Eloise, playing Candyland Castle, or baking hallah with Pie. I need to make more of an effort on this.
• Get to and stay at 133 lbs: Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha! ‘Nuff said.
• Go greener: This was my most successful resolution. I kept bags in my car and cut our bag usage down by probably about 75%. I was disappointed that our remodel wouldn’t allow for solar panels (we had the house evaluated and were told we don’t get enough sun for solar), but I did convert both our house and the apartment to wind energy. Slowly converting our light bulbs over. Buying energy efficient appliances for the “new” house. Trying to teach the kids about conserving (“No, Pie, you don’t need a new sheet of paper–just use the back of this!” Which works about as well as you’d think it would). I freecycled an incredibly amount of stuff when we cleaned out the house–I was shocked at some of the stuff people wanted: half used tubes of joint compound, the paint samples we had from when we painted our house years ago, Adam’s old economic textbooks, car window tinting, a bag filled with odds and ends of paper. The only thing I couldn’t get rid of was a box of Barney VHS tapes.
• Close e-mail and the Web more: Um, this was the year of Facebook and Twitter. So obviously, a big fat X here.
• Run a four-hour marathon: Hey, I’m happy enough with 4:13:36.

This year, I’m keeping the same resolutions here and adding a few more. Again, many aren’t for public consumption, but a few additions this year are:

• Read 26 books this year: I know 52 is the logical number here, but hey, that is so not going to happen.
• Take advantage of the teachable moments: Too many times I let the great opportunities with the kids pass by, because we’re in the car, I’m cooking dinner, or because I’ve just been bombarded with questions for the previous twelve hours.
• Set a writing schedule: Because I did promise all of you I’d complete the first draft of my novel.

Is that all my resolutions? No. Not even all my public ones. But once again, I can hear the Pie from the other room, so I’m going to tend to my daughter. I’m still adding to the resolutions list, so any that anyone wants to pass on, feel free!