It's January 5th. It's the last day of holidays before two-thirds of the Gremlins Three make their way back into the public education system. It's been several days since New Year's, and even longer since I last blogged.
I've been feeling a little stuck; writer's block, if you will. It's something that happens to writers for various reasons, including being completely mentally and emotionally drained - due, say, to the great doses of fatigue and chaos that happen when you have little horned ones underfoot for two weeks. But there's more than that. I've been trying to come up with some resolutions for 2011 and having a hell of a time doing so. Every time I think about writing them out here, I come up with absolute butkus.
I had the best Christmas in a very, very long time. I enjoyed every minute with my boys, had good family and friends over, and I swear I did not squeal like a little girl when I opened season 1 of Glee (thanks, honey).
It was just a really nice time. I loved it, I felt it, and I embraced the season as the proud agnostic I am. Jesus and I get along just fine over Christmas. When we can, we like to have brunch with Santa and Buddha on Boxing Day. Planning the whole thing over TweetUp works best, because Santa gets the notification on his Blackberry no matter where he is.
But then New Year's came. I mean, it was suddenly just there. I didn't feel it coming on like I did Christmas. There was no major preparation other than a bit of a grocery shop. We planned nothing, we had nobody over. The youngest two were asleep by 10:30 and Intrepid was upstairs chatting with other bored teens on Facebook. We decided to play some World of Warcraft, because what the hell else were we going to do? No excitement means no interest in watching the ball drop as we shove h'ors d'oeuvres down our gullets and reminisce over the year gone by. My blood elf paladin could use some company as the clock struck midnight, anyway.
I guess maybe our lack of excitement was due to a difficult year that followed an even more challenging one. They were a little sucktastic, those two. We had fires, financial issues, a stressed child, a sick child - and, eventually, a sick me. For a lot of 2010, we gritted our teeth and braved a storm. It could have been worse, but it could have been a heck of a lot better, too. So, one would think that perhaps we'd be excited to see a shiny new year, but that wasn't the case, either. I can't speak for Geekster, but I walked into it kind of indifferent. No feeling of new promise, new hope. No feeling of ominous scary stuff either, mind you. Just... indifference.
It took me a few days to figure it out, but now I know why: I already feel like I had my New Year. In October, when I changed my diet, I changed everything. Finally, I'm losing weight I've been trying to take off for years. Finally, I have the calmness and clarity to handle situations that I was too anxious to deal with before (like fighting children - all day every day). Finally, I have the energy to keep my house clean(ish - three boys, remember?) and de-cluttered. Finally, I have clarity of thought to write and not be tripping all over my words. As a writer, that's kind of important.
Finally. I have my life back. Changing calendars couldn't possibly top that. And I have no plans to change my life any further than I have in the last little while, because there's no need. Everything is starting to fall into place on its own. I'll eventually add in some exercise, I'll likely cut back on sugar, but those are progressions of the path I'm already on.
So, it's not like I'm unhappy about 2011. It's not as if I'm not excited to be starting fresh. It's just that the timing was about two months late. The Maven, as always, is a trendsetter.
At 11:45, Intrepid came downstairs and asked if we could watch the ball drop. The three of us sat on the couch and had a look at the controlled chaos in Times Square. And I felt happy to be with them - as I always am on New Year's Eve - and that's good enough.
Buddha sent me a text wishing me a happy 2011. So nice of him, but Jesus sent an edible gift basket, so he might want to step up his game if he wants to pick the brunch venue next year.
I've been feeling a little stuck; writer's block, if you will. It's something that happens to writers for various reasons, including being completely mentally and emotionally drained - due, say, to the great doses of fatigue and chaos that happen when you have little horned ones underfoot for two weeks. But there's more than that. I've been trying to come up with some resolutions for 2011 and having a hell of a time doing so. Every time I think about writing them out here, I come up with absolute butkus.
I had the best Christmas in a very, very long time. I enjoyed every minute with my boys, had good family and friends over, and I swear I did not squeal like a little girl when I opened season 1 of Glee (thanks, honey).
It was just a really nice time. I loved it, I felt it, and I embraced the season as the proud agnostic I am. Jesus and I get along just fine over Christmas. When we can, we like to have brunch with Santa and Buddha on Boxing Day. Planning the whole thing over TweetUp works best, because Santa gets the notification on his Blackberry no matter where he is.
But then New Year's came. I mean, it was suddenly just there. I didn't feel it coming on like I did Christmas. There was no major preparation other than a bit of a grocery shop. We planned nothing, we had nobody over. The youngest two were asleep by 10:30 and Intrepid was upstairs chatting with other bored teens on Facebook. We decided to play some World of Warcraft, because what the hell else were we going to do? No excitement means no interest in watching the ball drop as we shove h'ors d'oeuvres down our gullets and reminisce over the year gone by. My blood elf paladin could use some company as the clock struck midnight, anyway.
I guess maybe our lack of excitement was due to a difficult year that followed an even more challenging one. They were a little sucktastic, those two. We had fires, financial issues, a stressed child, a sick child - and, eventually, a sick me. For a lot of 2010, we gritted our teeth and braved a storm. It could have been worse, but it could have been a heck of a lot better, too. So, one would think that perhaps we'd be excited to see a shiny new year, but that wasn't the case, either. I can't speak for Geekster, but I walked into it kind of indifferent. No feeling of new promise, new hope. No feeling of ominous scary stuff either, mind you. Just... indifference.
It took me a few days to figure it out, but now I know why: I already feel like I had my New Year. In October, when I changed my diet, I changed everything. Finally, I'm losing weight I've been trying to take off for years. Finally, I have the calmness and clarity to handle situations that I was too anxious to deal with before (like fighting children - all day every day). Finally, I have the energy to keep my house clean(ish - three boys, remember?) and de-cluttered. Finally, I have clarity of thought to write and not be tripping all over my words. As a writer, that's kind of important.
Finally. I have my life back. Changing calendars couldn't possibly top that. And I have no plans to change my life any further than I have in the last little while, because there's no need. Everything is starting to fall into place on its own. I'll eventually add in some exercise, I'll likely cut back on sugar, but those are progressions of the path I'm already on.
So, it's not like I'm unhappy about 2011. It's not as if I'm not excited to be starting fresh. It's just that the timing was about two months late. The Maven, as always, is a trendsetter.
At 11:45, Intrepid came downstairs and asked if we could watch the ball drop. The three of us sat on the couch and had a look at the controlled chaos in Times Square. And I felt happy to be with them - as I always am on New Year's Eve - and that's good enough.
Buddha sent me a text wishing me a happy 2011. So nice of him, but Jesus sent an edible gift basket, so he might want to step up his game if he wants to pick the brunch venue next year.