Here's to You, and Here's to Me...

Like springtime, every new year promises new beginnings; a fresh start. Like moving to a new place, the slate of life is wiped clean and we all begin anew, perhaps reinventing ourselves or simply perfecting perfection. With butterflies in my tummy, I wonder: Who will I be in 2011? Is this the year that I finally put to rest my Suzie Homemaker standard (because – let’s face it – that is an ideal I will never live up to. Who has the energy or the time? It exhausts me mentally and physically just thinking about it.)? Will this year bring me more laugh lines and less worry wrinkles? Will I find the time to finish the Susie Stackhouse series of books? Will I finally learn how to use eyeliner?

2011 puts an end to my 20s; a decade I feel like I missed completely by Hollywood standards. At 21, I had graduated university and was working full-time in a large law firm in a city hours from where I grew up, living independently (for the most part) in the adult world while the rest of my friends were still in university and partying. By 23 I was married and, by 25, a mother. So surreal to me! I’m still taken aback when I learn of peers and old friends getting married and having kids...Really?! But we’re still 17! Ooh, wait...

2011 also makes me the mother of a 4 year old and 2 year old. I have no idea how they aged so quickly, but I wish they’d slow down a bit...let me catch my breath and freeze-frame moments in my mind. How their hair smells after bath time, or in the middle of the night after waking up sweaty; where their dimples are when they smile; how their eyes are the exact same colour as their Daddy’s – except that Missy Moo’s eyes change colour depending on her mood and what she’s wearing.

I don’t believe in resolutions (or, more correctly, in making promises you don’t intend to keep), but I hope that this year is the year that I’ll love my body and stop beating myself up for the belly button that is perpetually sad after two pregnancies, or the ¼ section of my torso that is covered in stretch marks. I hope that by 2012, I’ll be able to stand on the scale and not have my feelings hurt over 2 lbs or allow my pant size to determine my self-worth, and that I will stop tucking my belly into my pants when I sit down to hide the overlap because, really, nobody cares about it but me. The weight will all come off eventually, but it won’t magically fix my self-esteem.

I also hope that I can learn how the embrace the now and stop living in the when. This is a lesson I've been struggling with.  My every thought seems to start with "After the dishes are done...", "When Hubby comes home...", "When Hubby is posted...", "When the Littlest Lord starts school...", and I'm missing out on so much!  Stories that could be read or written with Missy Moo's help, snowmen that could be littering our front yard, 10 more tickle times in my day!

As I look over the table at the spaghetti drying on the floor, I simultaneously sigh and smile: Looks like I'll be up a little late tonight cleaning up after one of my hopes, but oh man! Were the laughs worth it!

I hope 2011 brings you love and laughter, health and happiness.