20 January, 2006
Life, Wee Watkins
…and we are all still alive. More or less.
“They” say that colic is at its worst at six weeks. I certainly hope so. I cannot imagine another several months of the same behavior as the past one and a half.
Update: Ironically, when I started this post two days ago, things were really very bad. Last night, Molly nearly slept through the night. She probably would have, except I freaked out and (mostly) woke her up around 2am.
Now, we just have to figure out if it was something we did (we let her sleep with us), the result of a growth spurt otherwise sapping her energy, or something else entirely.
If she continues to sleep the day away I will have time to post new photos. If not, I hope to do that this weekend.
So, I’ve changed my mind. I believe I have determined ten things I can actually accomplish.
Each day, I resolve:
To learn something new. Having a child should make that easy.
To try something new, especially something at which I might fail.
To meet someone new and learn their name. Animals count, as well as people.
To do something especially good (and preferably unexpected) for someone else. For friends and family, and also for strangers.
To do something nice for myself.
To do or make something that makes the world a better, or least more interesting, place.
To laugh, or at least smile, once a day.
To have at least 5 minutes of quiet time each day.
To say “thank you” at least once a day.
To forgive myself for not doing everything on this list, and to praise myself for the things I did do!
And I have three more for good measure:
To spend more than 5 minutes outdoors, admiring the wonders of nature.
To pet each of my kitties. With the excitement of the new baby, I must admit I have not been very attentive.
To tell my daughter and husband that I love them at least once a day.
I am now on my third attempt to document my resolutions for this year. Ordinarily, I have very little difficulty coming up with a list of ten things I would like to do or change, and all of the minutiae associated with each one.
There are usually one or two resolutions that make the list every year, which tells you something about my ability to actually follow through on these things.
This year in particular I actually have someone keeping score, although she doesn’t even know she is. Her name is Molly. It has occurred to me, in many a moment of panic, that she is watching my every move and learning from everything I do or don’t do. Santa isn’t that vigilant; and at worst he just delivers coal. My daughter might require me to pay for her medical bills or therapy for the rest of her life.
Therefore, I refuse to make promises I might not keep. With this exception:
Dear Molly,
I resolve to make every effort not to damage your body or your mind too badly in 2006.
Love, Mama
P.S. This is called humor. Just in case those who read this post have none and take offense.
