The Very Best Intentions

I love ringing in each new year. Not because it is an excuse to get plastered and walk around pinching people's bottoms; who am I kidding, I don't ever feel a need to have a reason to do that. No, I love looking back on the year past and marveling on how I managed to stay sane, married and out of prison. Oh, and how nobody knocked on my door and took away my children while I stood there puffing on my cigarette, yelling at the cops about how nobody treats this redneck like this and gets away with it....

Too bad I don't smoke.

This past year was pretty tame in comparison to some of the years I have had. I didn't have the opportunity to watch my best friend being dragged out of her house handcuffed, while wearing only a tank top and shorts. No shoes, no undies and no bra. (And Roxylynn's girls need to be confined. Someone could lose an eye when those girls are loose.) I didn't have to go down to the local cop shop to give a statement on her behalf to get her sprung. Nope, nothing exciting like that happened this year. This year Roxylynn learned how to be a law-abiding citizen and avoid the slammer. There goes my summer excitement...sigh...

This year was almost dull. We had family get togethers with only one or two dramatic moments. I can proudly say only a few of those moments were due to my inner shrew being released. Our family grew by one; the lovely addition of The Worm, and we didn't lose any more family members. Hallelujah! I made wonderful new friends through this little blog. Some of them hairier, some mouthier, and some more verbose than others, but all dear to my heart. And these are just a few of the wonderful people who have reached out to touch me (and not in a dirty way.) I thank you all.

I even managed to make a few new friends who exist beyond my computer screen and can come over to actually poke me. Not that any of them have (though I'm sure they've started looking for a sharp stick), but they've all taken a weird fascination with my snide and sorrowful self. For which I am absolutely grateful.

This New Year's Eve, I plan on loudly proclaiming my resolutions. (Loudly because, well, I'll probably be drunk and I tend to have a problem with volume control while inebriated.)

Because I love you so, I'll let you in on these promises.

First off, I pledge to keep my mouth shut when dealing with any mother figure I have in my life. (Included in this: MIL's, Nana-Inlaws and matriarch-type neighbors.) I will do this even if it means stitching my lips shut.

(I will consider myself successful if I can keep my trap shut until after Bug's birthday. Yes, I know dear internet, that is only Jan.4, but I never said I aimed high...)

Secondly, I promise to be the best damn mommy in the world, to both my existing and future children. This is a broad spectrum pledge which includes trying to include more food choices in their diet which doesn't come out of a box and have a delicious orange cheese flavored powder to stir in; and also includes the promise of trying not to embarrass my children by walking into their school with my slippers on, a ball cap and no makeup while yelling "Yooohooo, mommy loves you....You forgot to give me a kiss...." Because this has been known to happen on occasions such as when they forget to take their lunches or bring their homework with them.

(Who am I kidding, I take pleasure in tormenting them. I just plan on learning how to be more subtle about it...)

Thirdly, I plan on not subjecting this body to any more tattoos or piercings.

(I have the best of intentions, but without my hubs to put a leash on me, this one may be kinda hard...)

And lastly, I plan on being the best damn wife to Boo that I can be. Because with the ten year anniversary rapidly approaching, surely the man deserves it. I promise to be attentive to his every sexual need, not to nag at him to pick up his tools or his dirty socks and to actually smile while scrubbing out his bathroom.

Okay, who am I kidding. I'm outright lying. If he wanted that type of wife, the poor bastard never would have married me. He likes me fiesty.

Of course there are the typical resolutions I make every year, like trying hard not to incur any more speeding or parking tickets; promising not to spend any money foolishly on books, music, and shoes; and pledging to curb my sarcastic remarks to any and all sales people and adoption workers I meet, but I think we all know the flaws of those intentions.

I never claimed I didn't have a few er, quirks to my personality.

So this New Year's eve, I will be the one tottering about, spilling my drink and loudly proclaiming my new resolve.

While my children silently watch their mother in awe and shame and my husband does his best to keep me from pinching the ass of the 20 year old boy who is slightly afraid of this aging redneck.

Happy New Years friends. May your resolutions be more successful than mine.