Owning 2012. LIKE A BOSS.

I rebel against New Year's resolutions.

If my only reason for making change in my life is a somewhat arbitrary day on the calendar, I will likely fail. Then I will feel like a flake. Then I will be mad at myself. Then I will resist change, because trying and failing is exhausting and embarrassing. Then I will become a stereotype of myself, feeling awkward and acting in bizarre ways to maintain what I think is/should be "me," instead of continuing to grow into truer and truer versions of myself.


When I discovered I was carrying my little surprise baby in August of 2010, I only had to think for three-point-seven seconds before I decided our life, our home, our space needed an overhaul if I was going to successfully parent two babies pretty much on my own. (Speaking of which--the end is in sight! My hubby's going to graduate in May. We'll be a two-parent team again!)

I sat in my bed feeling miserable and hormone-y and drew up a list of every part of our messy apartment that needed a good restructure. It mostly had to do with organization and creating systems to help life flow well, but all began with a huge clean sweep of every room. I assigned a major task to each of the eight months in front of me, and broke it down into four weeks of smaller tasks to add up to the main job. My closet, my bedroom, my girls' bedroom, their closet, the hall storage, the living room; they all needed furniture rearranged, junk tossed, new dressers & shelves & other storage pieces; everything taken out and cleaned and given away, or trashed, or put back in a new way that made more sense. I pulled hard on myself and the people around me to get it done. We finished about a week before my due date.

Then Miss Ezra was born at home. She arrived straight into into my little organized, peaceful, settled space. When she got here, even though we couldn't have known how fast she'd come, our process of come-on-Gentrys-let's-get-shit-done-already, cleaning the crap out of ALL THE THINGS (yeah for nesting), had made us ready for her unusual arrival. On my bed.

So here's the deal, 2012. I have a feeling that some pretty awesome and important things are on their way as you run your course. I'm not sure what they'll be or how fast they'll arrive, but one thing I do know is how to make a plan that I can tackle, month by month, that will settle the spaces in my head and heart that need to be ready for radical, beautiful changes arriving more swiftly than I or anyone imagines.

I'm not preparing any New Year's Resolutions. I'm preparing for a year-long-get-even-more-shit-done overhaul. Stay tuned.

moniker

Trying to decide how to describe the event that just took place, and I've narrowed it down to three options:

1. I survived Poosplosion 2011 and all I got was feces on my t-shirt.
2. Poopmageddon.
3. Occupy Diaper. And baby torso. And mom lap. And mom sweater. And couch.

I'll have a shirt made if necessary.