Resolutions

I’ve never been one for resolutions. I’m too practical. How much can one old fart change? But at the same time I am cognizant of the fact that I could be a better person. A better wife. A better mother. A better friend. Less sharp edges and judgment. More tolerance and empathy.

I’ve been in a very self-centered place for months and months. A place called survival mode. Not seeing much more than twenty four hours ahead. Head down, teeth gritted, getting it done. I'd like to get out of this place and out of my own head. A little more glass half full. I'd like to laugh out loud at least once every day. Guess what? I started last night.

Setting: The dinner table in Whoville

The Saint: "I saw an invitation to the Mother Daughter Fashion Show for that school we already pay too much for*, are you guys going?"

Precious Oldest: a bit too quickly and cheerily "I think I'm back at school by then."

Precious Youngest: sinking in her chair, not making eye contact

The Saint: puzzled, don't they think this shit is fun? "Hey, just tell me if I need to write a check."

Me: slowly and thoughtfully, the spirit of Christmas still in my heart "Well you know, I think Miss Crabbypants Down the Street* is in the fashion show, and SOME girls like to go to this event!"

Precious Youngest: "Yeah well, SOME girls flunk out of school, is that OK now?"

Precious Oldest: milk, coming out of her nose "I miss family dinner SO MUCH!"

* some names have been changed to protect the innocent.