I found the journal entry I wrote the day I decided to sell my house and build on The Land. It is a list of 31 things I am chosing or deciding this year. A small selection of them are (in no particular order):
1. I will wear overalls and poo-shoes more this year than any other year. (*poo-shoes being the shoes which everyone should own which can come in contact with various species' respective poos and not send you searching for the saddle soap and anti-anxiety meds. Poo-shoes ARE anti-anxiety meds and I don't need the FDA to confirm it!)
2. At no point this year will I commit to do anything that steals my time/joy/sanity. I am building a house, homeschooling a genius, and healing from shoulder surgery. I don't have to feel bad for not selling popcorn, carpooling, debating politics or watching friends' children do ballet. I love my friends but ballet damages my calm. Sorry. But not really.
3. I will spend tons of time with my dad. Pretty inevitable since we're building the house together but still worth a mention. After 2 major health scares for him in as many years, I am more grateful than ever for time with him and more cautious than ever not to let it get away from me. Somedays that he and I will share may be quite like Thunderdome ("TWO MAN ENTER, ONE MAN LEAVE!") but others will be productive or hilarious or totally blessed or any combination thereof. It'll all be worth it. No doubts.
4. I will expand our homeschool curriculum from the rather mundane pre-algebra/first term paper fodder to also include How To Roof Your House Without Casualties, Maintaining the Peace with Your Adolescent/Single-Parent Whilst Calculating How Far You Could Throw a Claw Hammer (*that one should be a book like those old Polish/Italian joke books that are one title on one side and the other upside down on the opposite cover.), and First Aid for Middle-Aged Gentleman with Nailgun Wounds. These should all be merit badges in the Boy Scouts, I'm thinking. (Also, just a side note, they should be books which replace the Such-and-such For Dummies series. I refuse to be called a Dummy by some random hobbyist who wrote a book on some random subject. If your life's work is a big yellow book on a life skill or computer program imagine my boot coming in contact with your butt because calling someone a Dummy to cash in on your skill is not cool. Your mama should have taught you better. I hate those books. Okay...stepping off soapbox and taking a deep breath....)
5. I will play my bagpipes with more joy this year even if I have to sacrifice a little precision to do that. I will play them with gratitude that I have a lucrative skill but also because it will be so good to be back to it once the shoulder heals. I miss making some noise.
6. I will rid my life of clutter that I don't want to bring into my new home. This will include things that I want to sell on ebay but can't get a decent photo of (if it looks like junk sitting on my kitchen table then it probably is. Sorry, New Kids on the Block action figure!), every bit of personalized stationery/pad of checks/business card that has my old last name on it (I don't want to be reminded of the Old Mrs. L. when there could be a New Mrs. L. gag.), most socks, t-shirts and underwear the kid and I own (because we have owned them since Clinton was confused about the definition of certain words in the English language and they look like things that would be unearthed with dusty corpses on one of those forensic science shows), and the 2,000 Tupperwear lids which reside in my cabinet despite the fact that I only own 7 pieces of Tupperwear. Those things must breed like rabbits....or, even scarier, multiply like Gremlins.
7. I will thank God everyday that I have a chance at a fresh start, time with people I love, my health, most of my teeth, and a dog that thinks I hung the moon.
It may be kind of a random sampling but instead of New Year's resolutions which mean deprivation or constant self-deprication I think we should just resolve to have resolve. To know what we think/believe/trust and just live like it.
This year I am building a house. It's scary. But I resolve to savor the scary. And not throw claw hammers at my loved ones.