1. Pay closer attention to patience and being in the moment with all things concerning my son.
2. Lift my eyes up from the dishwater and enjoy myself. Lifting my eyes up from the DISHWASHER would be nice, but perhaps the happiness I feel lifting my eyes up from the dishwater and its endless supply of dishes needing attention, glancing out the windows, perhaps catching sight of the once-tame-now-feral big white bunnies digging holes in the front yard or frolicking along the sidewalk, catching sight of the many, many neighbors’ Christmas lights and air-Santas still in place, catching sight of a piece of red sky or red-tailed hawk swooping or that amazing palomino clopping along our road, its rider decked out in sombrero and spangly chaps—-perhaps these sorts of visuals will thrust me into such a happy place—happy, content, appreciating the background sounds of my son playing tug-of-war with the dog and his toy—that I will totally bliss-out and attract a silver dishwasher into my life. Dishwasher or dishwater, I resolve to focus more on these three words: All is well.
3. Not be all crabby about my February birthday (for once).
4. Continue to give to a charity each month, even if only $10, even if only $100.
5. Continue to write every day so that I can end the day knowing that I have written and stepped: Forward.
6. Remind my husband to remind me that we must remind ourselves to have our movie-night w/popcorn popped in olive oil, even if such a movie-night seems impossible that particular week.
7. Don’t sweat the small stuff.
8. Plant more beauty in the backyard because it’s important for writers and tired parents and young minds to look out the living room windows and see blooms that weren’t there the night before. Heck, turn the backyard into a forest with a non-brackish stream for splashing maniacally in and redwoods and blowzy ferns and foliage you can crawl under for a nap or pizza party—now there’s a resolution.
9. Keep thinking positively.
10. Keep optimism always close.
And it goes without saying, but here it is in writing: Read, read, read (to my book-loving 3 year old, for myself, forever).