This is the year….

That I pledge to do the usual: lose weight, be a better parent (not nicer, better), be a better spouse (see better parent), be a better friend (yes, nicer) and be less rigid.

I will continue with my ongoing quest to find what it is that I am supposed to be doing in this world, preferably something that will reward me financially. Success would be doing something that would use my diverse skills to their fullest. See previous post: Boredom.

I will write more. Every day, even if it is only a paragraph. My goal is to get one thing published by the end of 2009.

I will spend less time wasting time on the Internet, from looking at cheesy but wonderful gossip sites (my big three are People, TMZ and Perez Hilton) to doing background checks on people I have just met. (Do you want to know if your next door neighbor has paid his Property Taxes? Just ask.)

This is also the year….

My 11 year-old son will pass me in stature and in his knowledge of Science, Math and Technology.

My 9 year-old daughter will continue to amaze me with her sharp sense of humor, her self confidence and her saxophone playing abilities.

My 11 year-old stepdaughter will get her period and not know what it is because nobody has told her. I bought her a book about puberty that she said she already has. Doesn’t mean she has read it. I asked her if she had gotten her period yet and she said she didn’t know what that was.

My husband will find joy of some sort in every day even when faced with seemingly insurmountable odds at work (long days, rude customers, employee issues). All things you face when you own your own business.

2008 was…..

A year of a lot of fun. Five trips in as many months: Keeneland, Vermont, Las Vegas, North Carolina beach, Saratoga Springs and Las Vegas, again. Happy, healthy children. Dinner parties, new friendships, household renovations (love the wood stairs).

It was also a year of hope with the remission, from ovarian cancer, of a cherished friend who endured 6 brutal rounds of chemotherapy.

And one of grief. The unexpected, sudden death of a friend and neighbor at the age of 40. The death of another neighbor at a young age from a recurrence of cancer. Both left behind spouses and young children.

I am looking forward to closing out this year tonight, with all of its triumphs and failures, happiness and grief. I love the possibilities that come with a fresh, clean start. When I wake up tomorrow morning, I’ll be hung-over, with a massive champagne (or sparkling wine) headache. But I’ll get out of bed, go downstairs, have my coffee and start my day, my New Year. And I’ll get to work on making the most with all that I have, which is a lot.