Resolutions for the New Year

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It’s still January, right? Right.

• Delete conversational fillers and footholds from my vocabulary because  they’re like insufferable you know.

• Develop a healthy relationship with social media because there’s so little time and so much living to do. And I don’t want to have to go down this path…

• Find the right beauty products/routine for my face and frizz because I’ve been rocking the same ponytail and make-up-tricks-I-learned-in-high-school-drama look for far too long.

• Stop binge-ing on all the sugar all the time because it would come as no surprise to me if all my teeth made a pact to fall out one day.

• Create and follow a realistic daily prayer schedge because I’m a half-heathen without one.

• Replace certain choice words with holy aspirations because, in the throes of diaper blowouts and teething trauma, “Lord have mercy” is probably better for my sanity and soul than “effffff this!!”

• Make the bed every day because we could use a little order and beauty in the mundane things.

•Memorize more poetry

To watch

To read (aiming for a low 10-15 of these)

•••

Happy Feast of St. John Bosco, patron of Christian apprentices, editors, publishers, young people, magicians, and juvenile delinquents.

“Servite Domino in laetitia!”

Resolutions for the New Year

To stará mama’s house we go.

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Crying babies get buckled, tucked, and loaded up rebelling against what they do not know. It’s not over the river and through the woods, but over the highway and through the industrial wasteland.

The little travelers sleep. A Meditation from Tchaikovsky plays amidst snores and static.

And then at the end of the long gray drive is a warm home on a spot of green. And hot chicken broth to be drunk. And unbounding affection to be received. A joyful visitation. A happy end.

To stará mama’s house we go.