New Year's Challenges

I love lists. I love brainstorming ideas, or items that need to be bought at the market, or baby names (this was a long list). I get a huge amount of satisfaction in crossing things off that scribbled on piece of paper - it gives me a sense of accomplishment. Or at least the notion that I've completed something. Or made a decision.

With every New Year comes a list of resolutions - a list that is bold, full of promises and change. I've taken an 8 year hiatus from this list. I think the last one I created, actually sat down with a pen and paper and wrote my goals down, was a year and a half after graduating from college - the year the ball dropped and it was 2002. One year in the real world. Which is funny, because I was actually in Aspen that year which is FAR FROM REAL. That's a whole other blog post, though.

Back to lists and new years, new beginnings, new personal views. Being the competitive gal that I am, I have decided not to make resolutions, but rather 'challenges' for this New Year. Using this word makes it more appealing, more interesting. More fun, really. So, here it is. My list of personal challenges for 2010.

1) Get cookin'. Really, I'm horrible in the kitchen. Actually, I wouldn't know if I'm horrible or not because I've never really taken the plunge in these corners of my home. I'm scared to death of the oven, terrified by the grill and, quite honestly, intimidate by all of the kitchenware. I don't know where this stems from because I was raised in a home where family dinners were a must and take-outs were rare. Mom and Dad (a.k.a. the Grill Master) always had tasty dinners on the table. And there was variety! I'm not aiming to be the next Betty Crocker, but I want to attempt being more daring in the kitchen. And by daring, it may just mean using the crock pot. Hey, if it burns, there's always scrambled eggs.

2) Practice Patience. A few months ago, Jack was going through an impressively defiant period. Mostly involving the resistance to nap, but I'm sure that there were other frustrations brewing within the little 2 1/2 year olds being. On one particular non-napping, room destroying afternoon, I decided enough is enough. I took Jack from his room, even woke Sam from HIS nap, and put the boys in the car. Time to blow off some steam. I found myself at Target (my social life, as my Mom calls it). We strolled the aisles, passing cosmetics and toys. And screaming, kicking kids in carts. Not mine, mind you. Jack and Sam were being angels! As we rounded the final aisle, Home Decor, I noticed a sign with a short saying in calligraphy: 'Love is patient. Love is kind'. I said the words out loud. I looked at my babies and said the words out loud again. I picked it up and placed it in the cart next to a new little 'Matchbox' car. When I got home, I let Jack help me put up the sign - right outside of his door. He was proud. I was proud.

These words have become my daily (hourly?) mantra. They chant in my head while making coffee. They circle my mind during yoga. More importantly, they are right in front of my eyes as I enter Jack's room to tell him, again, to settle down and go to sleep. These words have made 'Mommy episodes' much less severe. I definitely have a long way to go before I am that cool-headed, fully rested, the sun is always shining kind of Mother, but I'm getting there. I have an enormous amount of love, but now I am challenging myself to be more patient, more kind.

3) Savor the little moments and see the world through other's eyes. I remember the first snowfall of this winter. It was in October. I remember waking up before anyone else, looking out the window, and groaning. Actually, it may have been a whimper. I don't remember, it was too early and before my first cup of coffee. I do remember, though, thinking "Already? Seriously? Ugh. Here comes 6 months of cold, chilly air and cooped up days in the house". I turned the thermostat up a bit, added a little extra cream (I needed to fatten up, like a bear, before the winter season) and gazed out at Mt. Sopris dusted in snow. OK, maybe it was kind of pretty. But, still, October? And then I heard it. The sound any Mother melts when she hears. The sound of absolute joy coming from her child. "Mama! Mama! Mammmmmmaaa! Look! Snow! There's SNOW outside!". I don't think I had heard Jack get this thrilled in a long time. He kept babbling over the monitor, almost too excited to even form his words. And as I listened to him, sipping my warm coffee while looking at the crystals forming in the single digit weather, I realized that these were the small, important moments of childhood. These were moments created out of pure, unfiltered happiness.

Too often our days pass and we miss these small moments. Maybe we miss them because we're stressed. Maybe we miss them because we're exhausted. Maybe we simply miss them because we're too focused on the larger moments in life. This is the year that I want to stop and enjoy the tiny experiences that create my life. The amazement of a first snowfall, the discovery of a new word, the beat to a new song. A smile. A hug. A butterfly kiss. All of these moments are fleeting and I want, need, to start appreciating them before they are gone. I will refer to Ferris Bueller, an 80's icon, really, when he quotes "Life moves pretty fast. You don't stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it". Right on.

4) Take up a hobby. I do this often - I take up a hobby, or an interest in a hobby, with full force. For about a week. If I'm really engaged, maybe a month. My Mom will tell you about the time I became super passionate about glass blowing after we stopped by a showing in some random cabin in the woods of Vermont. I thought that was my calling, my potential career even. To become a glass blower. I don't think that lasted more than a day. But, whoa, did I ever get interested for that one afternoon! Now, though, I have the tools to embark on a new hobby. I even have two tiny recipients who will benefit greatly from my products. Knitting. I asked my Mom for my 31st birthday (passing the 30 year mark officially placed me in the 'adult' category) to put together a little knitting kit that would get me started on this new, mature stage in life. She dutifully, and lovingly, put together just that. My own little knitting bag. She even put everything IN a cute little bag. Oh, I was excited! No more wondering what to get Jack and Sam's little friends for birthdays and Christmas! I'd make them hats! And sister and mom and friends? Scarves! And Dad and Husband? Sweaters! The possibilities were endless!

I am cringing as I now write this, but the bag sits, untouched, in my closet. My birthday was in October. But, the point of this list is to create challenges, so I challenge myself to break out this bag, when the kids are tucked warmly in their beds at night, and make something. Maybe a blanket for each of them to keep cozy on these cold Colorado nights.

5) Ease up on the need to be perfect. I'm a perfectionist. Always have been. Probably always will be. This was fine in high school, because the idea of perfect was completely based on me - my grades, my athletics, my social life. MY MY MY. Life now, though, is most certainly not about me. Exclusively. I have two itty bitty people who depend on me day and night. For everything. I have a husband who relies on me. To listen, to support, to love. In order to do this, I need to ease up on perfection. I need to realize that the world will not come to and end if the house isn't spotless, if the laundry sits on the floor for a day or two, if the boys aren't squeaky clean all the time.

This could be the biggest challenge of them all, because in order to do so, I need to give up a part of me that largely defines who I am. The need to be the best. Digging deep down, though, I know that I must do this because over the years my absolute addiction to being perfect has kept me from pursuing dreams and taking part in life. For example, races. I used to love road races and triathlons because I used to always WIN. Or at least come in second. It wasn't about the camaraderie of these races, or being with friends, or simply feeling the high of finishing the race. It was about winning. Now, I'm afraid to get out there for, chances are, I may not win. I may not even come in the top five. And this terrifies me.

What I've learned, and what terrifies me even more, is that I am going to miss out on life. Miss out on the experiences that present themselves on a daily basis. It's not just race day, it's every day. Life, as my Dad always said, is a relay race. We need to do what we can to get ahead so that the next little team (Jack and Sam) have an advantage, a head start, when they hit the road running. And what they need is to know that it's okay not to be the best, as long as you try and enjoy the ride while it's happening. And I need to realize that it's okay to leave life's little imperfections exactly as they are - because they make up who we are. If leaving the dishes in the sink for a few hours means playing outside a little longer, so be it! If it means that the boys have a little dirt on their faces, it just means that they were in the thick of life - taking it all in.

So, there it is. My list of challenges for twenty ten. I'm ready.