Happy New

I'm supposed to have goals and resolutions for the year, but my sights are set no further than tomorrow morning.  My only goal is to get the kids off to school sixteen hours from now and reclaim my house, my mind and my life.  I hate to see them go, my slovenly little troupe of video gamers, but it is time.  My entire existence has become a lazy series of naps, snacks and books, occasionally broken up by the excitement of stepping on a toy, followed by a brief flurry of cleaning activity.  When Xanthe says a prayer, she first asks what we're doing tomorrow, then prays, "Please bless that we can go to school and ballet," or whatever we're doing.  The other day, she said, "Please bless that we can...do nuffin' tomorrow."  Just to give you an idea of how far things have degenerated, Freestone has been wearing his new pajamas since Christmas Eve.  The two times I threw them in the wash, he wandered around wrapped in a blanket, waiting.  Tomorrow, it's back to real clothes, real food and a schedule that includes activities other than "2:30, eat another piece of fudge" and "4 pm, get ready for bed."

It's not entirely true that I have zero motivation.  I do have one glimmer of ambition, and it is this:  To hold onto more moments of 2011 and love them.  Once upon a time, it was my dream to have a family.  Now they are all here, my little cast of characters:  Scott, Golda, Ruby, Araceli, Freestone, Xanthe and Ptolemy.  I have a lead part in the drama, and I love it.  I want to live in such a way that my kids can say, when they are grown up, "My mom loved being a mom."  

I think I can succeed at this goal.  For one thing, it doesn't have any clear guidelines, so I can claim victory no matter what.  And it's more humane than my other goal, which was to accidentally run over at least one of our yappy little dogs.  I'm putting that one on the back burner, but watch out in 2012, Prestie.