I’ll mail you a jpeg of some of my favorite coffee cups…

I’m not sure if I can get past wanting a new house though. Sigh.

So that’s where we are. Still not at the point where we’re digging almost gone salami out of the garbage for a late evening snack. Living in squalor, behind on our bills, definitely not being the supportive, mind-expanding mom I want to be, I am also working on the living in the now, not piling hopes on a future that isn’t going to be showing itself to this family and figuring out all the other comforts and joys that are within reach.

I don’t know, Jenn. We just got back from a marvelous four days up north of playing in the snow, and not having to do laundry, and not having piles of crap around to be cleaned up, and no email to be checked. And the week started with us driving on New year’s Eve through the first snow we’ve had in this state, turning a four hour drive into a seven hour drive, ending with us in a ditch about a mile from our destination. If a neighbor hadn’t happened to decide to drive out and pick up his newspaper at 6 o’clock at night, we’d have been lugging two tired and chilly children through the snow to the cabin, then my husband would have trekked back with a come-along to try to pull the car out in the dark, alone. Instead our neighbor (and Senator!) pulled us out – and as we waited for him to come back from plowing the road the rest of the way in, a city transplant decided he had the right of way coming down an icy hill, and we ended up in the ditch again, this time atop a culvert. Happy New Year. But we got her out the next day, and didn’t have to pay exorbitant holiday rates. And Oliver, who seemed irreversably traumetized during the event itself (“Daddy’s Car! Daddy’s Car Stuck!) is not having screaming nightmares. And I think that’s kind of what our life is going to be like. We’ll have some days building snow caves and sitting in front of a fireplace. And we’ll have some days careening backwards into the ditch, hearing our front bumper get ripped from the car. All I can hope for this coming year is that we can eventually laugh about the crap that happens and move on until the next thing hits us.

It has taken me a good dozen years to finally get to a point in my life where I am simply happy to be me. Many a lofty goal now sits abandoned on the roadside as I journey toward the person I am slowly becoming. And as I sit at a small desk in a small windowless office and squint at the computer screen though the haze of fluorescent lighting I am fully aware that my life is nothing like what I had planned. This is most certainly not where I intended to be at the age of 27. *sigh* Perhaps I am too young to be this jaded, but I have managed to attain more life experience than most in my few short years on this shiny blue marble. Now, I am in no way saying that I have attained Nirvana, but I have finally reached a point where I am able to contentedly sit back in my ergonomic desk chair and simply see where the day takes me.

My only suggestion would be to try and look at the world though the eyes of your children because the possibilities are still infinite.

ROTFLOL Is this classic Spot or what?!

Anyhow, I am feeling guilty because I have not yet blogged in the new year and Jenn, you are one hard act to follow after this thought-provoking essay.

A sequel sounds “spot” on. Cough.

Because I win the lottery every day.

I had hoped you would pop back in and tell us your thoughts in light of what people have been saying in response to your post. I definitely think this post deserves a sequel!

but: you are right.

i am the sort of person who always has plans to change, plans to do life better, plans to become a better person, and i think i have more fun with the plans than i do with the actual change.

this year, of course i had vague new year’s resolutions floating around in my head, but it was sort of a shock to realize that i’m pretty happy with the way things are now. and i hope (there it is!) i can stay that way: perfectly present and happy (or even just accepting) with the way things are going.