Ah, New Years: a time to think about fresh starts, new choices, and making things happen.
I've never been a resolution type girl. If you want to do something, do it. Don't act like the change of one digit in the calendar year is really going to be the impetus for some life-altering metamorphosis. But then again, I can appreciate tradition and rituals and the fact that January 1st signifies a type of clean slate. We're only human - we need some kind of landmark to give us a new perspective. Also, it lets us know we're not alone - it's not just a personal time of change, but almost the whole world views this as a new beginning.
In that case, why do I never make resolutions? Perhaps, because I am lazy (read last post). Perhaps because I don't like cliches and doing what everyone else does (get over yourself, Anna). Perhaps because then I will be bound to actually follow through with my resolution, and what if I don't?? Better to have low standards than not meet them, eh?
This year will be no different. I will not be making a list (even a short one) of resolutions. HowEVER, I have been doing some self-reflection, and perhaps 2008 will finally be the year where I find out what I really want, and actually GO AFTER it. I've been taking the path of least resistance for my whole life. I have always figured that every decision is a good one, as long as you make the most of it, so why even make decisions? Que sera sera and all that. However, after college, I realized you have to make your own life. Serendipity's not going to take care of me forever. I must go get what I really want.
Maybe, in 2008, I will figure out what exactly that is.
Leading a healthy, balanced life is difficult for me. I never really feel compelled to exercise. I have always eaten whatever I want, whenever I want it. Lately, since about 4 people have told me I look like I'm losing weight, I've really been pushing my limits as far as what my body will let me consume. On my 4th or so bowl of ice cream of the day, when I feel a twinge of guilt for inflicting this type of torture on myself, I'll reply to this inner voice with, Hey, I need to gain weight. I'm doing this for your own good. And for a moment, my conscience is assuaged. Never mind the fact that I feel physically weighted down every day. I just blame this on my iron deficiency, which should really be all the more reason to carefully select an iron-rich diet. Instead, I have been eating my weight in heavy whipping cream daily.
my mom:(as she sees me eating pumpkin pie) I thought you didn't like pumpkin pie. me:Well, I needed something to eat with my whipped cream.
Mmm. Lots of dairy - that's my current diet. Except the other morning, when we were all out of milk, so I had none to put on my Golden Grahams. We had plenty of heavy whipping cream, though. (Sick! I know, but the Grahams just needed to be moistened.)
Today, I watched some friends of mine do some Tae Bo, those dedicated girls. I figured I should join in, so whenever the mood struck me, I got up off the couch and did a few kicks. And afterwards, my body started to say, Hey, this feels good. We should do this more often. It makes me want to do other thigns too. I am capable! I am not the piece of crap you seem to think I am. It's like it reminded me that endorphins are actual real things. There is a reason people exercise. Our bodies actually like it. And my body likes healthy food.
We made "gingerbread" houses in kindergarten this year. The kids were going nuts, but they did a pretty good job on them. Just a few conversations exchanged:
student: (after I had explicitly stated and the children had clarified several times that we could not eat any of the icing or graham crackers) Can we eat it? me: No. You may not eat it. student: Can we smell it? me: Definitely. student: (after sniffing the icing up close) It smells like [Miss G]!
student: Are we going to make a gingerbread house man? me: Well, we're not going to make a gingerbread man, but I do have little gummi bears you can put outside the house and pretend that's the gingerbread man. student: I want to make them kissing.
there's magic in the air this evening, magic in the air
I love tradition. I love that volumes of meaning and emotions and memories can be packaged into a seemingly insignificant action in a way that you don't even realize until you perform it.
You rip off a piece of Scotch tape (what a comforting smell) and stick it to some wrapping, smoothe it over with your thumbnail, and suddenly you're five years old, wrapping up a TMNT t-shirt for your brother, that you're confident he will love.
You turn on the Dance of the Sugarplum Fairies and know that no matter where they are, your siblings will at some point this season remember you pretending to be a ballerina while they flitted satirically around the living room .
You light a candle and chuckle (yes, chuckle) at the mere thought of the scene you tend to cause with your sister at the Christmas Eve service every year. (I can't help it my voice is so low.)
You sing a song and know that when the season is over, it will go into hiding, not to return again til next year, when every note will be just as you left it.
And for some reason, the more you repeat these traditions, the more powerful they are. The stronger the reminder that once you were happy and carefree, and with your favorite people. And you will be again and again, for as long as you commit to it. You have a shared history with these people you love, glued together with bars of songs, nutmeg, homemade stockings, memories of snow or ice, drippy white candles, and of course, Scotch tape.
Dang, who knew so much sentimental value could be attributed to office supplies? I should do marketing for 3M.
My kids made me laugh the other day. You might think, teaching kindergarten, that I would be laughing all day long. However, when it's just your life, you tend to get a little desensitized to the funny stuff.
So, a group of kids was reading together on the carpet, and they all started reading a class book we made in unison. In a ghost voice.
I don't know why it struck me as so funny, out of all the things they do every day. Maybe I was just happy that they were reading out loud independently. Maybe it was because they were cooperating. Or maybe it was just so genuinely weird. Ghost voices? Whose idea was that, anyway.
I like them. Also, they voted to title the book Bears Eat Different Kinds of Things.
