Last year, my friend Emily and I resolved together that we’d wake an hour earlier than we normally do and do our daily devotions and work out. Wait. Emily was in her house and I was in my house. We weren’t having endless slumber parties with each other, although that would be all kinds of fun! You know what? Let me now just start over.
In an effort to find more times for ourselves, my friend Emily and I decided that we’d each wake up an hour earlier than we normally did, do our daily devotions and work out before our families were up and ready to start the day.
This seemed easy enough. On Jan. 1, we set our alarms and screenshot it, texting it to each other for accountability purposes.
On Jan. 2, Emily texted at an ungodly early hour: I’m up!
I texted back: Me too!
Only … I have no recollection of texting her back. I have no recollection of my alarm going off. The first thing I remember is one of my daughters bursting into our room telling us that we had overslept and we were going to be late. After a frantic morning, I sat down at lunch to text Emily and apologize. That’s when I discovered my sleep texting.
Dang. I confessed my transgression and promised to be better the next day. And the next. And the next. My promises were empty. I’m not a morning person. My New Year’s Resolution had lasted exactly negative one day.
The year before that, I resolved to keep up with my daily planner, which served as my family calendar. On Jan. 3, I missed a dentist appointment. On Jan. 4, I lost my planner.
One year, I vowed to take my lunch to school every day. After the first week, I had made five turkey sandwiches which were either left on the kitchen counter or in the fridge.
I try, y’all. I really do try to make my life easier. I try to make my life better. I try to keep my promises to myself. I just cannot seem to pull it together after the holidays to keep those resolutions. As well-intentioned as they are, my resolutions are empty. They are as sadly empty as my forever-lost planner.
This year, I listened as my family and friends made their resolutions. My mom resolved to double her exercise time since her knee replacement last year. My hubby vowed to not miss a work-out time with his gym buddies. They get up at 5:30 and follow a fairly strict regimen. They are completely nuts in my world. But, whatever floats their boats.
My older daughter spent the break getting ahead on her history reading and vows to stay ahead. My younger daughter wants to work out and add a couple of miles per hour to her softball pitch. Emily is still an early riser, beating her family out of bed and getting a jumpstart on her busy day.
I am so proud of each of them setting their goals, making their plans. I am happy to play the part of supportive mom, wife and friend to each of them. I’ll cheer them on to success and truly be happy for their achievements.
As for me, myself and I, however, I plan to do nothing. My resolution is to be lazy.
Seems easy. From the outside looking in, I’ve already achieved that goal, right? Based on just the experiences I’ve already shared with you, you probably think I’m lazy enough as it is.
But the truth is I’m not lazy. The reason I can’t meet those goals is that I’ve got too much going on.
The reason I can’t wake up with Emily (and the reason I sleep-text her) is that I’m usually up late, fixing lunches for other people, folding laundry, keeping a studying student company, planning for the week with appointments, extra curriculars, sports.
I can’t remember to take my lunch because my mind leaves the house hours before my body does. I am thinking ahead to what I need to do when I arrive at work. I’m planning the carpools, the drop-offs, the pick-ups, the birthday parties, the never-ending things that make my life crazy.
So, in this new year, I plan on doing nothing. I plan on being lazy. I’ll take charge of those things that cross my path and wish well the things that don’t. I’ll do laundry when I need it. I’ll eat whatever I happen to grab on my way out of the door. I’ll walk the neighborhood instead of incessant planning. It’ll be the year I just enjoy life.
My prediction, though, is that it will last about one day. I haven’t done laundry since the day before Christmas Eve, so I’m sure I’ll be up all night making sure we all have clean underwear.
Heather Davis is an Oklahoma momma & a writer. You can contact her through her website, www.Heather-Davis.net.