Tuesday, January 3, 2012

New Year, Same Old Me

It's been awhile, I know, and mostly by design. I like to keep quiet this time of year.

Bart's parents have been here, so we've been busier than usual with guests and travel. But that's a fun kind of busy, so yay. Once I find the time to download the pictures, I'll post some photographic evidence of their journey halfway across the globe.

They leave tomorrow, early, and tonight I am awake with a coughing child. Again. It's okay, though. I'm using this quiet time as an opportunity to eat the leftover holiday peanut brittle. All of it. I know, right? Good thing my New Year's resolutions didn't include "eat less peanut brittle."

Actually, I have no real written-down resolutions. Just some thoughts in my head that I resolve anew pretty much every day of the year, and then fail at by 7am each morning. You know, things like " be more patient." It would be a lot easier to eat less peanut brittle (especially now, as the bag appears to be empty, alas).

New Year's isn't my thing, anyway. I find the whole spectacle to be depressing. It hits right around the same time as my birthday, and I usually use the opportunity to fall into a "I have accomplished nothing in the past year" funk.

This year is no exception. I mean, yes, I suppose I got a job in 2011. Actual, gainful employment. But, in order to do that, I gave up writing for publication. No time, you see. So now I can't call myself a writer anymore, but I can call myself a spouse, with a spouse job. You spouses out there know what that means. It doesn't do to dwell on these things in the dark of winter, at least not in a house devoid of peanut brittle.

In 2011, no one close to me died. No one was born. Status quo there, thanks be. I did a lot of traveling in 2011: to Jerusalem and Bethlehem, to Petra and Aqaba, to Turkey and Germany. But I did not go back to America. I did not camp in Wadi Rum. I did not hike Wadi Mujib. I did not get to Tel Aviv, or Syria, or Egypt. See all the "did nots" I worked into my list? This is why you don't want to invite me to your New Year's party. It's one day when I'd rather stay home and sulk.

But here we are and it's January 3 over here as of a few minutes ago. New Year's is over! It's time to return to our regularly scheduled programming! No need to dwell on the past, or resolve to do better in the future. I just need to resolve to stay awake until coughing child falls asleep. Also to hide the empty bag of brittle deep in the trash can. And, while we're at it, I should remember that tomorrow I will be tired, very tired, because I will not sleep tonight, and neither will my spouse, and my in-laws will leave in the morning, so my children will be sad, and grumpy, and possibly all coughing. So I hereby resolve that when tomorrow begins, I will be patient. With them, and with myself, and with anyone else I happen to encounter.

At least before 7 am.

3 comments:

Jen Ambrose said... [Reply]

Happy New Year!

Z. Marie said... [Reply]

Amen, sister. (But I wish you would have saved me some peanut brittle ...)

Jill said... [Reply]

Happy belated new year! I come by to disagree with your comment that because you're working now you can't call yourself a write.

Umm... You ARE a writer, whether or not you publish blog post regularly. You are a story telling - of exciting adventures of your trips to the Dead Sea and beyond. You're an author of fantastic articles that are read all over the world in magazines, newspapers, and online. And no amount of hours working for Uncle Sam will ever take that away from US - those of us who have followed you forever and a day. :)

Please. Write your own stuff.