Resolute

I never used to make resolutions. I had Lent, as a Catholic, to do that. But Lent always feels like a handfasting, and New Years like a marriage. I fear divorce. I always went for the handfasting. You know, a temporary thing.

But in 2010 I made the resolution that I would let drivers into my lane. If I see a blinker and the person needs to merge, I let them (when possible--I don't come to screeching halts on the highway, that sort of thing). Most of the time, people need to merge through no fault of their own: construction pops up in their lane, they miss the sign for the exit, they have out of town plates. I made this resolution and it stuck. I still do it. Why wouldn't I?

Last year, my big resolution was to only have 1. One glass of wine at dinner. One beer (well, that never happens, I hate beer). One margarita. One scotch and water. One whatever. I have a child with a potential seizure disorder and I'm the only one who maintains ice water in the vein. There's no drinking anymore. And I kept true to this with one exception. Annie's choir party, Miguel was making cute little martinis. I had two lemon ones, and it was fine. They're small. Then I brought out the bourbon slush and had two cups. And frankly, I was still fine. But I understand slush--I screw up when other folks are pouring and the glass never empties. Not to make excuses.

2012? I do best with a very specific thing, like the two above. I slack off and divorce the resolution when it's something like "bike more" or "clean house more." And I'm better at consistent little things like the past two years than with ones like "read 10 books."

So my first ideas are bad ones: "Facebook less, talk to neighbors more." No way to measure it. "Make hot breakfast 1 Sunday a month" is bound to produce a hurried last Sunday of the month mess. "Do more cute bentos" is one of my goals, but also hard to measure.

I want to do those things--facebook less, make hot breakfast on Sunday mornings before church, and flex my bento muscles. But I'm not going to make them a resolution. Instead, I'm going to do two things. One big, one small.

1. Keep the guest room functional. The Dorian Gray of my whole house, it's the one room I can close off and not use if necessary. People have to walk through the rest of my house, and when my bedroom gets messy it makes me want to cry. So the guest room takes the hits for the rest of the house. I organized it last night and the day before. It's lovely and functional. And I'm going to do my best to keep it so.

2. Smaller, and one I've done before during a Lent a few years back, is to compliment folks. I always think these things in my head--I love the way she sings, that homily reached me, those are great boots, I like his glasses, she has great style--and I find myself not saying them for reasons I never get. So there it is. When it comes to mind, I'm going to say it.

Also, my friend the other Mary mentioned a new 365. Not now. I'm thinking summer, and then it will be something like "The Summer List of Things My Kids Will Never Have to Do. Or Get to." I may call it Consubstantial. Or Odsplut. Hmm.