Somehow, it is January 2022. I’m still getting used to saying 2022. I feel as though it’s been sprung upon me, like I didn’t know it was coming.
I was born in 1993 and 2022 still sounds ridiculous to me. Almost futuristic. It couldn’t possibly be present day. I can’t imagine how my Dad, born in 1943, must feel.
The New Year means goal setting and resolutions for many. I don’t really do resolutions, they feel like too much pressure. I am much happier saying things like, “I’d like to try and run three times a week, but if I don’t, I won’t beat myself up, because you know, it’s not a resolution.”
A simple reframing of the language can ease the burden slightly.
I am all for personal growth, but knowing my own mind, I can see how a failed resolution could niggle away at me for months.
I did however set Joel the resolution of not saying a certain swear word (no need for specifics here) for an entire month. (This was something I felt quite strongly about.)
He resisted at first but soon gave in, it was not worth the battle.
Of course, although I won’t be setting hardcore goals, I do have a few things I’d quite like to spend more time on, including reading, writing, painting and one to one time with Maia.
Then there’s the old favourite: “Learn how to meditate, proceed to do this, every single day forever.” Which I say at the turn of every year and never do.
So instead of a list of all the things I want to change, here are a few things that won’t be changing:
1. My commitment to sugar:
My dentist: “What’s your sugar intake like?”
Me: “Ridiculous.” *
Despite my dentist querying my diet, I have no interest in attempting to lower my sugar intake. Sugar is my drug of choice. I don’t smoke, I don’t drink, I don’t even get to binge watch Netflix when I’m tired. But what I can do is shove multiple chocolate biscuits into my face at 9pm and at various other points of the day.
I’m a full-time parent and I’m exhausted so give me the biscuit.
(*That dentist visit actually went surprisingly well. She said I needn’t have been quite so honest about the sugar and I’d have gotten away with it.
2. My commitment to social media:
I like Instagram. For a few minutes, every day, it takes my mind on a journey that helps quiet the incessant stream of chatter that is otherwise present all day long.
I enjoy discovering new accounts that for whatever reason, make me feel good. Creatives encouraging other creatives.
Mothers with real, unpolished photos sharing their experiences in an honest and vulnerable way.
Anyone who makes me laugh.
If I’m too tired to read, I will scroll, and that is absolutely fine.
3. My commitment to painting the walls of this house:
I love it so much. I am off to Homebase today for more tester pots.
In February we are having our front door painted and we are going bold. There is no door on our road this colour and I can’t wait. I just want to paint everything.
4. My commitment to breastfeeding our toddler:
Leo is nearly 17 months. We’re still going strong. Yes, he pulls my top up and gets annoyed when I say, “No, not right now…” But that’s just him expressing a feeling. And me setting a boundary. I am fine with all of this.
5. My commitment to the laundry:
This sounds silly, but it’s a thing. The division of household chores is a thing. I do the laundry, Joel clears the kitchen every night (washing-up included), and we both do various other bits around the house.
But laundry is solely my domain and I have accepted this. All I ask is he unfurl his socks please.
Angela blogs at The Colourful Kind
