Resolutions...

New year, new decade. *Eh*

"Accept The Things You Can Not Change" -Neibuhr

I'm not one for resolutions. I am of the mind that if you don't like something you change it. If you can't change it, you change your attitude about it.  I am not as fit as I'd like to be, but I've learned to accept that I have lived my life, and that comes with stretch marks, squishiness, and huggabilty. I could go to the gym, the boys use our memberships regularly, but they are packed full right now and I hate sit ups. By accepting that I don't want to put in the work, I can therefore embrace the jiggle. Sure I could eat healthier, but cutting carbs and sugar usually makes me crazy and I can't be starting the decade out stabbing someone with a fork.

"Let go or be dragged" -K. McCreight

I am not however immune to analyzing my life like we all do this time of year.  Last year it became apparent that unlike the rest of the middle aged world, my diverticulitis was triggered not by food, but by stress.  I laughed at the doctor when he said "You are going to have to eliminate the stress in your life."  Seriously.  What kind of medical advice is that?  Stress for anyone is inevitable.  Stress, in a house full of boys, is as unavoidable as fart jokes. Nevertheless, I took a hard line on many things this past year.  I let go and trusted Oldest to do the right things with his free time. After a small (mostly) private breakdown, I held Bonus Son more accountable for his 6 month *rent-a-room* in the basement of the house, and let go of my pipe dream expectations of how it would be when he came to live with us. And, I all but ignored Youngest's antics until it became HUGELY apparent he still needed a mother to guide him through this section of his life, or threaten to take him out if it.  Whatever. In the end, I  have only had a few flairs, none of which I needed to be hospitalized for. 

"The house won't fall when the bones are good"-Marin Morris

There was a moment last month that while making dinner, we realized the house was empty except for the husband, myself, and the dog. Funny how that happens.  You wait years for some peace and quiet, maybe even lock yourself in the bathroom for it, and when it comes it's, for lack of a better word, uncomfortable. While not exactly empty nesting, because they will be back and forth for the next 5 years or so, things will be very different.  We have never been a married couple without kids.  We never had a honey moon phase, or had a story of just us. And while our foundation is good, it goes without saying that when you've spent the last 16 years of your lives with the distraction of kids staring at each other day in and day out can be, well, daunting.  So of course, we got a dog. 

Need a break? Walk the dog.  

Want a distraction? Pat the dog.

Arguing over the kids a wee bit too loud? Dog will interrupt like an obnoxious toddler.

The dog, friends, single handedly saved out marriage over the last year.  She offerd us a distraction, a reason to communicate that didn't involve crtitical analyzis of parenting skills, and a reason to get out into the fresh air, sometimes together, sometimes alone.

"We're not broken, just bent, and can learn to love again" -Pink

But if I look at that moment, and the moments in between, it has come to light this year that I do need to make a change. We have fallen into the routines, the doldrum of everyday life, sometimes passing the leash off as our ships pass in the night. So this year I've decided that before the scilence and monotony breaks us, I will work a little each day on writing my side of the story of us.

I will hold his hand.

Kiss him at least once a day.

Ask for help instead of being resentful.

Hold him accountable for his part on this team. 

Maybe, listen to his incessant political rambling, maybe.

This year I will resolve to be more.

More of a wife.

More of a partner.

More of US.

More of myself.