One Little Word For You. And You. And You. And You.

The other day I wrote a little bit about the idea of One Little Word for 2014. While I have decided that I will forego choosing OLW for myself, I have elected to go ahead and chose one for my kids. Who better to determine their focus for this New Year than their mother, right?

 

Some will see the following words as harsh. Please. Don’t get me wrong, I love my children with a fierceness only a mother knows. And if we weren’t in the midst of a hellish school cancellation scenario, I would have inserted more warm and fuzzy accolades with a side of mush throughout this post. But I’m not feeling it today. And honestly…if a kid can’t take a little constructive criticism and focus…well then, they’re screwed for life. So really, by giving these OLWs to my kids, I’m doing them a favor.

 

My first born. Her word is FORGET. I want her to FORGET she ever heard that frigging "Cups" song by the lovely Anna Kendrick. I swear to all that is good and holy if I see or hear my daughter try to drum it out on her chest, head, thighs or stomach One. More. Time. I am going to lose my fractured marbles and will saw her hands off myself. Granted, removing an appendage may sound a bit harsh, but honestly. This "Cups" thing? IT. HAS. TO. STOP.

My middle: His word is FLEXIBILITY. Good land boy. It is okay if you don’t sit in the green chair every single time your scrawny ass needs a place to settle. It is okay if you do not hold your baby brother first every single morning, or chose the first cartoon before school. You will survive if I show you a different way to complete your math homework. You will survive if you are not third to brush your teeth at night. You will survive if we deviate off schedule by just a little bit. I promise. Please do not clutch your head, jump up and down in sheer frustration, and scream a slew of nastiness when something, anything, does not go as you think it should.  You are exhausting yourself and you are exhausting the rest of us. Seriously. Flexibility. Look into it.

 

My other middle: I’m actually breaking the rules and giving her one little acronym: CTFD. Calm the F*ck Down child. Just calm down. I know you have been displaced by your baby brother. I know that you were the baby, my baby, for almost four years. But honey, it’s time to let it go. Get over it. You are not the baby anymore, your brother is nearly eight months old and you have had enough time to adjust. The drama. The crying. The (mostly negative) attention getting. The trying to crawl up into my shirt. The not getting the frig out of my business for just a few minutes. It’s old. I’m done. I know you know I still love you as much as ever…but get this…I may even love you a teensy bit more if you just, you know, CTFD.

My baby: His word is PACIFIER. Baby. Dear, sweet, adorable, squishy little baby. A pacifier is a tiny little silicone gift from the heavens. They come in beautiful colors, and some even come with witticisms! In general they can up the cuteness factor for the average baby. And get this, you can bite it and it won’t bleed! You can clamp your teeth around it and shake your head all over hell and it won’t scream. You can suck it in and spit it out of your mouth a million times over (even in the MIDDLE of the night) and it won’t ever become chaffed or exhausted. You can pinch it, scratch it, and stick it in your eye or your ear. It could be your new breast best friend. I’ll even let you keep it as long as you want! I’ll lie to the dentist about you having one. I’ll scoff at the dirty looks we get when you’re happily sucking away on one at the age of 12. (People are so judgmental). And, I know you love the real thing. I get that. But for the love of Christmas give me a break. You don’t know what you’re missing. Let 2014 be the Year of the Pacifier. Please.

New Year's Unresolution

Maybe it has always been a thing and I was just never hip enough to recognize it. But it seems that having “one little word” for this New Year is defining early January. Seeing the #olw all over Facebook, blog posts and Instagram prompted me to do what I oftentimes do best…jump on the bandwagon.

 

Consequently I spent the past few days thinking about one word for myself that I would like to define both my 2014, and 2014 for my family. I even lost my shiz at dinner last night and screeched that our one family word for 2014 was going to be SILENCE. (I may have said fricking silence, but that wouldn’t work, cause duh…its two words.)

Finally I came up with my word: BRAVE. Then I read a blog post where someone said their word was GIVE. And I wanted my word to be GIVE. Because that’s a pretty bitchin’ word too.  And then I saw an IG post where someone said their word was GRACE. And I wanted my word to be GRACE. Because, yup, that’s a pretty bitchin’ word too.

This morning folding laundry I started thinking: Who am I to kid? I don’t make resolutions at any time during the year, because I really suck at keeping them. And I hate disappointing myself on that grand a scale. In thinking about the likelihood that I would not keep up with my braveness(?) this year, my mind lazily shifted to the area that rationalizes my surrendering to something before I’d even begun.

Realizing I wouldn’t stick with my word, any word, I started questioning why I needed a word anyway. Why do I need to change; to be more brave…to be more anything? I’m a pretty good person overall. I am a pretty good mom, with pretty good kids. I’m a pretty good wife and a pretty good friend. What compels me to feel as though I need to be better at any of those things? I certainly have no interest in being the best, because to me that sounds utterly exhausting.

Sure, there are things that being brave may help me accomplish. I may push to sell our house, it’s something we’ve talked about for years. I may discuss adoption more, it’s something I’ve dreamed of doing for years. I may offer my opinion even when I know it’s not a popular one. I may, I may, I may. But if I choose to pursue anything in my life, I can do it without a word. And if none of those things happen? If everything stays the same; if I don’t grow or stretch spiritually or emotionally; I think I’ll be okay. My kids, and my marriage and the world will be okay.

That being said, there will undoubtedly be times this year when I compare myself to others. I will look at women who live their word; people who accomplish and stick with their resolutions. Who are the best at what they do. And I will look at myself and feel badly. I will wish I was the best at something. I will wish I had a word.

I will be thirty-nine in a few days. Perhaps the gift that I will give myself this year is being okay with who I am; being happy without a word.  Where I am is certainly not perfect. And there may come a time when I would like a guiding one worded principle. So this year I will also remind myself to question whether or not I need better, wonder if I need more, or continue to believe it is okay to stay the same.

For right now, I’m anti-word. But in the spirit of the New Year I will perhaps focus on little shifts instead. Conceivably what I can do is focus on a few things I’d like to look back on this year and say I’ve accomplished. That’s at least a little brave right?

      1.       More control, less peeing in my pants when I sneeze.

2.       More eye gazing, less phone scrolling, while I nurse the baby.

3.       More family game nights, less get-the-kids-to-bed-as-fast-as-possible nights.

4.       More time away from the kids, less time worrying about being away from the kids.

5.       More truth, less sarcasm.

6.       More reaching out, less folding in.

7.       More making fun of myself, less making fun of my husband.

8.       More interacting with the kids, less napping while they play their iPods.

9.       More happy where I am, less look at where she is.

10.   More saving, less Dunkin' Donuts. Never mind, that just won’t happen.

Whether you’re an OLW kinda gal or not, I wish you nothing but the best in 2014. Here’s to keep on keeping on. And here’s to enjoying each other for what we are right now.