I figure New Years resolutions are usually just a way to set yourself up for a big fat fail. And when the year is so new and full of promise too. I’m the sort that always makes New Years resolutions only to rarely carry them through beyond the first week of January, if at all. For as long as I can remember I have had a ‘life plan’ that has been amended and added to with each passing year.
Well, no more. Because, and this is me having a little introspective breakthrough and learning about myself, all I seem to do is set myself up for never ending cycles of plan → failure → guilt → self loathing → pressure → plan →… stuck on repeat for all of eternity.
I like to think that I am not saying this because I have failed my plans but because after 27 years on this planet I have finally realised that setting, and in fact achieving, vague and hugely spanning goals similar to ‘happiness’ is actually the best way to go.
Case in point: I missed my target to get married (yeah, I had one of those. Yeah, I know) by ONE WEEK. There is now no way that I will manage to create, incubate and expel ‘at least three babies before I am 30’ because, well, because of life init.
In all of my mental grand plans I didn’t once factor in getting ill or job loss or homelessness or all of the other super fun things that happened to us in 2012.
Every time I tentatively makes noises that sound a lot like I’d really like another baby one day in the not too distant future I am met with the icy gaze of the husband reminding me that we have a long way to go. I know we have a long way to go. It needs to be a spur to focus the process, not a pressure.
*crumples stupid list into a ball and sets alight*
2013 is mere hours away and I have no goals or hopes or stupid bastard plans.
2013 is the year that I take it all one day at a time, enjoy, allow myself a little bit of congratulation for just making it through every now and again.
Hang on, that doesn’t count as a plan does it?
Blogging wise I’ve also decided to make a few changes, the main one being that I’m not going to post photos of Beans anymore. Her face is hers (obviously) and it’s not up to me to decide whether it pops up in some obscure Google search or on random corners of the internet. Two very different camps exist in relation to publishing photos of kids on blogs and I have sat in the middle since I started, swaying from total ease to questioning myself and then jumping right back on top of the fence again. This way just feels right for now.
For a while I suffered from a bit of a crisis. Do I keep the blog, change it, delete it, start all over or forget it ever happened?
Thing is, I thought myself around and around in circles until I landed on one pertinent question – do I want to be defined by this?
Throw all the titles at me you like, ram me into any pigeon hole with careless abandon, I don’t mind being Beans mummy or that girl with the bad house or a blogger or a wife or a mummy blogger. Actually, I don’t really care if I am referred to as the one with PND or similar accolades.
What I got scared of is it defining me, the PND part that is. Because in reality that is mostly what I write about and mostly what I deal with and what will I do when I get better and have fluff to write about and everyone forgets me andandand…
And then I realised I was being an idiot and running away with myself and jumping head first into a bubbling pool of confusion when there was a perfectly nice looking bridge I could have skipped across instead.
So the blog stays.
Over Christmas I have struggled though a self imposed social media hiatus in an effort to do that bullshit sounding thing of reconnecting with the real world. It has been hard work. The husband has been subjected to plenty of snippets of my mind in 140 characters or less because I need to let it out somewhere damn it!
I deleted my Instagram account mainly because I made the decision about no more toddler photos but also in an effort to reduce my social media-ness. It’s been some pretty hard cold turkey I can tell you. Not so much for the need to share but for the need to nose and see what everyone is up to because I am so used to having that privilege. Twitter and Instagram and yes, I suppose Facebook too (begrudgingly) can be such wonderful little huddles of community. The comforting chatter of your family through the walls while you lay in bed at night. Always there, it’s nice.
So yeah, I miss it and I have missed Twitter and more importantly you all missed out on my high pitched crazy excitement when Beans drew a face, an actual face with eyes and nose and mouth all in the right places resembling the right things and I was so proud and excited I wanted to scream it from the Twittertops. But I held off.
(Until now – SHE DREW A FACE! She is an artistic genius!)
I have met some awesome people on Twitter as well as finding some awesome blogs and making friendships too.
These are some of my favourites because they have helped me in some way or because they’re just little pieces of wonderfulness in the universe:
Follow them, read their blogs, stalk them etc. You won’t regret it.
So. The future. Did I talk about that? In all honesty I have no idea where it will take me. But I have decided that’s a good thing.
The last year has taught me a lot about the sheer kindness that lives inside some people. It’s reminded me that even the smallest gesture can mean a mind bending amount to someone. I really hope that I can become someone just like that, giving with thoughtfulness and kindness and time…Go forth and spread the love.
Happy 2013, I hope it’s your best one yet.