New Year, New Me?

So the holidays were good -- it felt like a sprint to the finish, but good overall. Lots of family time, good food, and hanging out. Having a wondrous two and a half year old who fully believes in Santa and fRosty the Snowman greatly imporved my enjoyment of the season.

So now, the NEW YEAR. A time for resolutions. Maybe a vow that with a new year will come a new me?

Nah, not really. I like a lot of parts of who I am already. But that doesn't mean I'm not up for change and improvement!

I am making a commitment to continue making fitness and eating well a major part of my life. I have also learned enough about myself over the last year to know that while I do enjoy my treadmill, races are not for me. So I'm not going to do them. I am bringing strength training though, via my favorite yelling Biggest Loser trainer. I'm just doing her 30 Day Shred DVD and some other workouts. Hopefully this will help round out the jogging so the flab can go bye bye. Please, let it go bye bye.

I'm also going to try and perfect a combination of being realistic, compassionate, semi-dead-inside (for business purposes) and snarky. Lately I have been sacrificing one or two of those traits and indulging in the other. I like that I'm all of these things, but when they come out of balance, a lot of my life suffers because of it.

It will take care in both my personal thoughts and actions, but I think I can do it. It's all about growing. Personally, not ass-wise, that is.

Yeah ... Christmas is Going to be Better this Year.

So last Christmas ... no I did not give you my heart, but the very next day, you gave it away.

No, last Christmas, I was covered in hives.

I had some allergic reaction to something, I think it was green peppers but it was never confirmed, and a week before Christmas I was covered head to toe in crazy red itchy hives. I looked like a science experiment. Needless to say, prepping for the holidays was next to impossible while trying to fight my way out of the Benadryl coma I was in. Although when I had to take steroids to help with the reaction, I got A LOT done.

So Christmas last year was weird; I wasn't into it, I felt awful, and the whole thing just felt like it was something I needed to get through.

THIS Christmas, I am feeling merry. Very!

Decorations are up. Tree is decorated. Gifts purchased. Menu chosen. Carols sung on a daily basis, thanks to a toddler who loves them. His excitement has been positively contagious. I am even making cookies with my little guy on Christmas Eve, despite the high odds that we will both end up covered in flour.

Hey, it's better than hives.

And I'm really looking forward to Christmas Eve night with the hubs. Christmas Eve has always been a more quiet, cozy time than the rest of the holiday. It's the soft quiet before the frenzy; a chance to sit together, talk, and think of Christmases past -- living in crappy apartments, or being apart at our respective families' houses because we weren't married yet -- and be really thankful for how far we've come and the family we've built together.

I don't take many opportunities to slow down and think of what I have -- I'm usually too busy looking to accomplish what I haven't -- so it's always nice to take a moment, reminisce, and be grateful.

It's Beginning to Look a lot Like Christmas ...

... Because I am stressin'. Nothing new or different from what anyone else is probably feeling this time of year, but oy. Between trying to finish up projects at work and trying to find the right gifts while not bankrupting myself, it's been kind of hectic around here.

BUT. I am almost done. With more than 2 weeks to spare! I need to hit the mall (ugh) and the local outdoor shopping center (blargh) but then I'm done with gifts. The tree and decorations are already up, and the holiday cards are in. Now to just actually address them and get them in the mail ...

I'm really digging this holiday season so far. It helps to have an enthusiastic toddler who wakes up every morning as enamored (or more so) of the Christmas tree as he was the previous day. And when he says, "I'm happy and excited for Christmas, Mommy!," well my heart grows three sizes.

It also snowed this past weekend, probably the earliest we've had snow since moving here 5 years ago. It was fun to watch B's reaction to it, and it definitely helped with the holiday spirit.

I'll post more thoughts later on the holidays, including one of my favorite times, Christmas Eve.

Something I Don't Talk About Often

So my husband and I like to check out PostSecret and when there's a theme, like Father's Day, we talk about how it seems like everyone has Daddy Issues. And how glad we are that we don't have those issues.

Except I do, kind of.

I don't know my biological father. He and my mom divorced when I was not even 2, I think? There were drugs involved on his part and my mom made the right decision to leave, obviously. I've seen maybe three pictures of him in my lifetime. His name is Mark. I don't know anything about him, save for an awkward run-in with his sister when I was 16 (she worked at a store that my mom and I popped into while back-to-school shopping). While I grabbed the nearest article of clothing and ran for a dressing room, my mom found out that he never remarried or had other children, and that he still lived in Maryland.

That's it. Lived so close, yet never wanted anything to do with me. I do wonder what the hell his deal was, and occasionally think, defiantly, about how much he's missing because he couldn't get himself together ... but I don't think about it much.

Because I have an awesome dad who came into my life shortly after my mom divorced. He is my real dad, adopting me once he married my mom. His name is Hank. He was the one who taught me how to ride a bike; ate my disgusting attempts at baking when I was younger; took me to just about every museum in DC when I would go to work with him; helped me with my homework (and notoriously helped me fail a math assignment, because he got confused about what we were doing. Thanks Dad!); took me out to lunch when I first started working in DC; and wouldn't let me lift a finger when I was pregnant. Now he's the proud grandfather who hogs my son when he visits--good luck getting a hug from B with my dad around.

Anyway, I guess my point is that yeah, you can have daddy issues--but they don't have to take over your life. I know I'm lucky to have a dad who loves me; not everyone gets that when they lose their father figure. So that's why I don't entertain that particular drama much.

Besides, why wonder about something that couldn't possibly be as fun and rewarding as being Hank's daughter? I love you, Dad.