I had this amazing idea during dinner yesterday. I’m not usually super into New Year’s resolutions, but I thought that maybe this year my husband, my kids and I could make New Year’s resolutions for EACH OTHER.
Within 10 minutes I discovered that this amazing idea was not, in fact, amazing but instead the exact opposite.
It all started out just fine. I was spitting out stellar New Year’s resolutions left and right for everyone. Less screen time! Better table manners! No more nail biting! It was amazing. It was like I had this superpower that would let me pinpoint EXACTLY what needed to be changed about a specific person and lay it out in no uncertain terms.
I saved myself for last. This is when I began to see the error of my ways. For some reason, I thought it might be hard for my family to come up with a New Year’s resolution for me. I don’t know why, because immediately all three of them started spouting off things that I could resolve to do:
- “Stop yelling so much.”
- “Pay more attention to me.”
- “Pay less attention to me.”
- “Publish a book.”
- “Be nicer.”
- “Stop our monthly check-ins where you ask me if I’m taking drugs.”
- “Don’t make us suffer because you are gluten and dairy free.”
To which I responded:
- I DON’T YELL! And anyway, if you want me to stop yelling, stop doing things that make me yell at you.
- That is out of my control. You have to tell me to change something I can control.
- SO. RUDE.
- You’ve never eaten so well, ingrate.
What I’ve gathered from these suggestions is that: (a) I can’t take criticism, and (b) I basically need to change who I am as a person IN GENERAL. WTF?!? Like a simple, “Stop saying like so much” wouldn’t have sufficed?
I’m not going to lie. This cut me deep. Deeper than my #fingerbooboo, which, by the way, is on the mend. I have no feeling in the tip of my finger, but maybe that’s okay, because at least it’s numb to the events that occurred around last night’s dinner table.