I was feeling very noncommital about the whole new year's thing yesterday. I've really only got used to it being 2012, and now I'm expected to remember a whole new number? That's a bit demanding, for a woman who can probably tell you either what day it is or what date, but never both at the same time. I wasn't really getting into the spirit of the year-in-review thing or the looking-forward thing. I decided it was just another day.
However, with no particular sense of resolution, I have just submitted a tiny piece to the newspaper (and had it accepted) and signed up for a writing workshop. That seems quite motivated, somehow. Maybe it's subliminal.
Meanwhile, as we sat in McDonald's* this afternoon savouring the guilt-free taste of pure bribery, I asked the children if they'd made any resolutions. Then I had to explain what resolutions were, which ended up something like this:
Me: ... and so, sometimes people decide to try to change something in the new year, to make themselves a better person.
Dash, a little confused: But Mummy, I'm already a great person.
Once we got past that, they were all gung-ho about things they could do. Dash plans to try pasta again (again? he swears he used to eat it, but I know very well it has never passed his lips) and to read more books. Mabel is going to do more sit-ups (um?), eat carrots, and not scratch or bite her brother.
That final item didn't last the day, but maybe something will stick, some time. I find that going back after a trip away is often a good time to instigate a new rule, so maybe next week will find us all eating dinner in the kitchen instead of in front of the TV. That would certainly be a start.
Now, if I can just get the last of these cheese melts out of the way, I will also resolve to start running again.
*McDonald's in Ireland has bendy straws. And I'm sure the food is much less unhealthy than it is in America.