February is next week. Are you kidding me?

This was me on December 31, 2017:

cheetah

This is me on January 24, 2018:

housecat

I was so ready for a new year, ready to tackle it, ready to kill it and take no prisoners. I was going to be a better planner, improve my time management, be more present, create a vision board. Yeah, a vision board.

I ordered a book about making my best year ever. I’m still trying to finish a book I started reading in November.

I ordered a fancy new planner from some self-help guru I saw on Instagram. That’s still sitting in a box.

I joined Weight Watchers. I haven’t tracked anything in 3 weeks.

I signed up for both the Hike it Baby 30 (a 30 mile in the month of January challenge) and the 365 Mile Challenge (365 miles in a year). We’ve gone 4 miles this month. At least there is still hope for the latter.

I have a brand new corkboard and fancy push pins sitting unopened in my office, just waiting for my vision. Or someone’s vision. It’s a nice reminder I don’t seem to have a vision.

I read all of the posts on social media about everyone making a difference in 2018, being better, setting their goals and resolutions. My newsfeed was filled with images of hopeful sunsets, inspiring sunrises, beautiful flowers, and pensive looking selfies. You know, I was on the wagon. I was really into 2018.

Well 2018, you can keep January. I’ve decided this is an eleven month year and I will officially be holding a re-start of 2018 on February 1st. In my new year, we will not have two and half weeks of single digit temperatures with below zero windchills. We will not have our furnace break in the middle of that (it was so cold, we had a frozen part in our furnace). We will not have horrible sickness plague our house for multiple weeks. No more runny noses, no more horrible, lung burning cough. We will not hold ourselves to unreachable standards set by the beautiful people on social media that seem to have it a whole lot more together than I do.

We will acknowledge that we are human. I will realize that I am a working mama, with a rambunctious 2-year-old boy, and that sometimes shit doesn’t get done. Shit like vision boards. We will be happy with the progress we make on a daily basis – that there is a homecooked meal on the table, that everyone in the family is fed, clothed, and clean, including the cat. We will be proud of the effort we put into our careers and just as proud of the love we give as parents, caregivers, friends, spouses, and partners.

So, 2018, this average woman from the mid-west is ready to take no prisoners! Starting in February. No promises on the vision board.

 

 

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