1. Get skinny. Wear a bikini!

Happy New Year! I love the tradition of making New Year’s resolutions. Sometimes I rewrite the list several times if I don’t like how my hand-writing looks. The better the list looks, the more likely I am to succeed? Like most people, however, I don’t even remember what I wrote by the time the snow melts in June (our nest is in northern Michigan so yes, I meant June). Usually I resolve to do pretty much the same trite things that could be on anyone’s list: get skinny in time to wear a swimsuit that I don’t hate in July, reach out to more friends and family on a regular basis, control the clutter, wipe away all consumer debt, start painting again, save the world. You know, the basics.

But I find myself in a different plane of existence this year.

I actually really truly might be able to wear a swimsuit I love even BEFORE Lake Michigan is warm enough to swim in. For the first time in many years, I’m well, not really very chubby anymore. I’m not what you would call thin exactly, but I’m in need of a smaller pair of jeans. And the fat lady sings indeed! Did I finally find self-control and muster up some will power? No, not really. Did I start running every day and eating lots of celery? Err, no.

Truth? It’s actually all Wren’s fault. She’s literally been sucking the life out of me for the past 7.5 months. I recommend the breastfeeding diet to everyone. If only everyone could go on the breastfeeding diet… Can’t believe the medical community hasn’t come up with a way to recreate this diet for all walks of life? But it’s not just that. When I gave birth to Wren without the use of any drugs, surgery (thank God!) or strange metal implements, I was simultaneously knocked on the head with a new body awareness. I might even call it “empowerment,” although that’s a pretty hackneyed phrase. This new sense of me has helped me to be a more mindful muncher. In addition, my new life as Wren’s Mamma makes me incredibly happy (albeit sleepy) so my consumption of ice cream has dropped. Operative word: dropped. Not ended, silly. My husband still thinks I would live on ribs and ice cream if it were up to me. I would add coffee to that list.

So now what’s a gal to do? I haven’t even written my 2010 list yet because it feels strange to have (almost) accomplished something that’s lived prominently on the top of the list for at least 16 years.

Here’s a start:

1. Get skinny. Wear a bikini!

1. Come up with a post-breastfeeding plan for later this year on how to stay smallish. Or skip it altogether–too much work!–and just get knocked-up again. Eventually that cycle would have to end or I’d end up like the woman across the street with thirteen (13!) children. But she’s very thin and always wears high heels so maybe we need to get together for a cup of coffee soon.


  • Talking on the phone? Yuck. I’m good for about the length of a Beatle’s song.
  • My latest pet-peeve is when people comment about my Facebook postings to me in person so I know they’re on Facebook…, but they haven’t updated their own status in eons. It’s just creepy.
  • Orange is my favorite color today. Still is.
  • Trying to turn our nest a bit greener and realizing it’s easier to buy something green–a soy candle or a bamboo hand towel–and greenwash myself than it is to actually make significant changes.
  • When you name your child after a bird (ahem, Wren), everyone gives you bird stuff. Please don’t give us anymore bird stuff. Yes, it’s seriously cute, but I don’t need any more knick-knacks to watch collect dust.
  • Loving our thigh-high snow.

Enjoy resolving something today.


0 thoughts on “Resolutions.

  1. > When you name your child after a bird (ahem, Wren), everyone gives you bird
    > stuff. Please don’t give us anymore bird stuff. Yes, it’s seriously cute, but I
    > don’t need any more knick-knacks to watch collect dust.

    I suppose the bird name just focuses the knick-knacks; sadly, babies seem to attract such gifts, leaving a new parent with more items to collect dust than dust is available. The good news, given your plan, is that the first such child seems to attract more such gifts than subsequent ones.

  2. I’m the same with the phone. God I hate it. I’d rather email or be face-to-face. Such weird extremes. My 15 year old self would roll over and just DIE! I remember begging for a phone in my room for ages.

  3. I’m loving your blogging. My comments will be in no particular order, so please bear with me. Just this morning while getting ready for work, Tom and I were kibitzing about your ensuing children and potential names: Loon? Nah. Nuthatch? Nah. Purple Martin? Nope. Woodpecker? no no no. I think you’ve used the only good name, with the exception of Robin, and that would be so pedestrian I don’t want to think about it.

    Your “empowerment” as a child is really the result of your own characteristics, and your dad and I allowing you to exercise them. You had a good thinking mind from very early on, and we honored that. We were also lucky enough to live in times and places where we didn’t have to fret and stew every time you left the house. Do you remember when we lived on Baily, the first summer, I believe, and I asked you to walk down the street to mail a letter. It was a much longer walk than I had remembered, and on top of that, the mail box was a small one mounted on a pole, which you couldn’t reach. You couldn’t have been more than 5 years old, but you parsed it out and solved the problem – you walked up to a neighbor’s house, knocked on the door, and asked for help. Then you walked home. Any recollection?

    I understand completely your attachment to school. I’d be there myself if I didn’t have to work. I’d love to continue studying, and I hope I still can even after I “retire.” And I hope you, do, too – and I hope this love of academia (sp?) will be passed on to Wren and any brothers or sisters.

    Just in case you’re interested – my favorite color is green. And I won’t send any bird stuff. When we had Xerox, we had over 100 cat things people gave us. So I’ll remember that – NO BIRD STUFF. But maybe sometime Wren would like a budgie bird like her great Uncle Gary. And Ash – you’re perfect – no matter what size you are – just be happy with who you are, because you’re the greatest. xoxoxox

  4. Bird stuff – when you’re a French teacher everyone gives you Eiffel Towers. I’ve received countless statues, pencil sharpeners, salt and pepper shakers, earrings, a lamp – you name it. The pepper shaker ended up as a sculpture in my fish tank for awhile. I thought the fish might enjoy the view too. 🙂

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *