Resolution Redux: A poignant and painful confession and atonement

If the date on my calendar is to be believed, I am only one week into 2011. That just feels patently false. Yet there it is, staring at me in black and white. Only one small week into 2011 and already the list of "to dos" and "haven't dones" looms large and staggering like something out of a Salvadore Dali painting. And so, like a good Catholic, I'm resolving to absolve myself through a public declaration of my shortcomings.

I took all the ornaments off my tree, but I haven't gotten around to removing the lights because it just seems like a monumental task, and so there is always an easy reason to make an excuse to put it off. Normally I like enjoying the tree for a while, but this year our tree never managed to take up any water despite all my machinations, and so it is just a brittle dry tinderbox. So it must go. But there it stands lurking in the corner of my too-small house like an unwelcome behemouth.

Meanwhile myself, my husband and my toddler have all managed to let our guard slip a bit, say 15 percent. We have been 15% less vigilant about putting things away when we should (or in the case of my toddler, I've been 15% less vigilant about reminding him to put things away). And all those percentages have conspired against me and when I walked into my house this afternoon I realized--to my horror--that I had a pang of empathy for those folks on the "help me I'm a hoarder" show. I could see how it happens. The slippery slope to that place where you have a narrow walking path through your house and on all sides it is just miscellaneous junk without a home. I want to make large and small strides to bring order to my house and my life, but somehow no matter how many organization books I read, it doesn't stick! I'm immune to order. Help!

I taught a mini cooking class on food for babies and toddlers today. It was a fun but raucous experience, and it made me face my inner over-achiever. Maybe it is just an innate tendency to overdo everything, except perhaps planning and preparation. I planned four different food stations where people could break into groups to make four different recipes, each of which utilized different techniques, different cooking equipment, and different ingredients, all of which had to be transported by yours truly, who arrived looking like a pack horse. I want to embrace simplicity and learn to tone down my expectations of myself.

Though I continue to pay for a gym membership monthly, I tell you to my great shame that I have not made time to go to the gym in over a month. The most activity I have done in 2011 has been to drag my 35 pound toddler around in the large cardboard box he received for Christmas (well, actually, he received a tricycle, but it came in the box, which my son has claimed as a bonus gift). In fairness to myself, he never tires of this activity, so I can be enticed to drag and spin him around the house (through the narrow channel between the seas of chaos) almost endlessly. Still, this is a far cry from the vision I have of myself: intense yoga three times a week, interspersed with swimming and maybe training for my first ever 5k run.

I have only experienced the runner's high once...maybe. I'm not entirely sure. I feel sort of like the blushing virgin who isn't quite sure if she's experienced the big O. Other people talk about this runner's high like it is an easy and inevitable product of running three miles. I remain skeptical. And who do I talk to so I can to complain that they missed me when the powers that be were dishing out this remarkable innate, natural drug-like experience that would make me more addicted to running than chocolate? Because I hate running. It is a thing I only really want to do when someone is chasing me, and maybe not even then.

I'm not asking for a miracle, 2011. I just want to continue to make measured strides to close the gap between what I aspire to be and do, and what I actually am doing. I want to be more adventurous with my food: not that I'll become Anthony Bourdain, but I want to try cooking with harissa. I want to master more techniques: not that I'll become Julia Childs, but I want to master gnocchi so badly it hurts. I want to learn how to smoke meats so I can smoke my own salmon. I want to eat better food, eat less of it, and be active doing things I love. Little things.

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Remember to visit my sister blog: The Skinny Gourmet Reviews. Comment on my post about healthy resolutions for a chance to win a $100!

UPDATE (1/8/2011): Turns out public confession IS good for the soul. The Christmas tree is now out of my house and all most of the needles are swept up.