Unresolved
January 10, 2001
Well, the first thing we did this year, the little hubby and I, was get into a fight over our New Year’s resolution. It’s about budgeting and my theory is: Make a plan and then let it go off into the universe where the gods of good will and love will take care of it all. His theory is: Balance the checkbook.
Obviously a somewhat different approach to something we basically agree on—the need to feel a little bit more organized about where our money is going now that we have two college tuitions to pick up plus some other little plans for the future like maybe taking an actual vacation to somewhere besides the mall.
We don’t really fight that much. We both tend to be a little too passive-aggressive so we say things like, “Aren’t you sleepy, dear?” when we really mean, “If you don’t turn out that blankety-blank light and get into bed, I’m moving to a hotel.” Or, “I think you look great in everything, honey!” instead of “You’ve been fat so long that I can’t even remember what you looked like when you looked better. “
There are some basic problems with the whole resolution thing. First is that it makes you feel critical, which is not something I need to be encouraged to do. My resolutions are always about what I’m not doing—if we have treats, I never leave any for anyone else in our house. My idea of exercise is opening the door for the dog to go out. I’ll spend time with the kids only if they want to rent a movie; clean the house only if someone very important is coming and I only have to clean what they’re going to see and I can close all the other doors. Which means, if you come to my house, you’re going to have to “hold it.”
I’m not writing thank you notes to tell people how grateful I am, going to graduate school, or making a million dollars a minute. The list is practically endless. Then, best of all, when I start thinking about what I’m doing wrong, I’m instantly reminded or what you’re doing wrong.
For example, if I go on a diet. I start out okay but soon I’m remembering all the M & M’s I ever ate and that I should have left half my sandwich on the plate. Then I start thinking about how I shouldn’t have gotten fat in the first place and what a toad I am. Then I get mad at everyone else because they’re not perfect either and soon, I’ve turned into this tornado of pain spreading agony among my confederates where ever I go.
The other problem I have with resolutions is that they cause me to lose faith. If I think about what I need to change, I start doubting my whole approach to life. I start thinking that I’m not capable of making decisions about anything. Have all my priorities been wrong until now because I decided to charge our car payments so we could get the frequent flyer miles, not thinking that I was then taking out a car loan at 18% interest?
I am an inveterate resolution maker. I LOVE the idea of being able to change my life and be better and different than today. It’s like shopping: the very next black t-shirt I buy is going to be different than all the other black t-shirts I’ve ever bought and it’s going to change my life forever. You either understand this line of reasoning or you don’t but if you’re honest, you have to admit you feel this way about something: your car or your house or your job title.
So we resolve to “work out.” On a recent KSL call-in show about resolutions, at least 70% of the people said they need to lose weight. Either fat people listen to the radio more or a lot of us want to be smaller. I’m addicted to self-help articles and this year’s self-help article “theme” is that resolutions should be positive instead of negative. “I will bring more beauty into my life by meditating for five minutes every morning” or “I will write for five minutes in my journal each day.” You do that instead of saying, “I’m an insensitive slob and I need to stop telling people they’re driving me crazy.” Whatever.
My personal resolution this year is to be a better, sexier wife. For me, this means that I will actually speak when my husband comes home from work while I’m watching “Entertainment Tonight.” I will press the “mute” button and ask if he had a nice day. I will not look at the TV while I’m asking.
Unless they’re talking about something interesting like whether Gwenyth Paltrow is going to get together with Ben Affleck or where Prince William is applying to college. Then I may have to have him wait a second while I find a tape and push “record.”
Well, the first thing we did this year, the little hubby and I, was get into a fight over our New Year’s resolution. It’s about budgeting and my theory is: Make a plan and then let it go off into the universe where the gods of good will and love will take care of it all. His theory is: Balance the checkbook.
Obviously a somewhat different approach to something we basically agree on—the need to feel a little bit more organized about where our money is going now that we have two college tuitions to pick up plus some other little plans for the future like maybe taking an actual vacation to somewhere besides the mall.
We don’t really fight that much. We both tend to be a little too passive-aggressive so we say things like, “Aren’t you sleepy, dear?” when we really mean, “If you don’t turn out that blankety-blank light and get into bed, I’m moving to a hotel.” Or, “I think you look great in everything, honey!” instead of “You’ve been fat so long that I can’t even remember what you looked like when you looked better. “
There are some basic problems with the whole resolution thing. First is that it makes you feel critical, which is not something I need to be encouraged to do. My resolutions are always about what I’m not doing—if we have treats, I never leave any for anyone else in our house. My idea of exercise is opening the door for the dog to go out. I’ll spend time with the kids only if they want to rent a movie; clean the house only if someone very important is coming and I only have to clean what they’re going to see and I can close all the other doors. Which means, if you come to my house, you’re going to have to “hold it.”
I’m not writing thank you notes to tell people how grateful I am, going to graduate school, or making a million dollars a minute. The list is practically endless. Then, best of all, when I start thinking about what I’m doing wrong, I’m instantly reminded or what you’re doing wrong.
For example, if I go on a diet. I start out okay but soon I’m remembering all the M & M’s I ever ate and that I should have left half my sandwich on the plate. Then I start thinking about how I shouldn’t have gotten fat in the first place and what a toad I am. Then I get mad at everyone else because they’re not perfect either and soon, I’ve turned into this tornado of pain spreading agony among my confederates where ever I go.
The other problem I have with resolutions is that they cause me to lose faith. If I think about what I need to change, I start doubting my whole approach to life. I start thinking that I’m not capable of making decisions about anything. Have all my priorities been wrong until now because I decided to charge our car payments so we could get the frequent flyer miles, not thinking that I was then taking out a car loan at 18% interest?
I am an inveterate resolution maker. I LOVE the idea of being able to change my life and be better and different than today. It’s like shopping: the very next black t-shirt I buy is going to be different than all the other black t-shirts I’ve ever bought and it’s going to change my life forever. You either understand this line of reasoning or you don’t but if you’re honest, you have to admit you feel this way about something: your car or your house or your job title.
So we resolve to “work out.” On a recent KSL call-in show about resolutions, at least 70% of the people said they need to lose weight. Either fat people listen to the radio more or a lot of us want to be smaller. I’m addicted to self-help articles and this year’s self-help article “theme” is that resolutions should be positive instead of negative. “I will bring more beauty into my life by meditating for five minutes every morning” or “I will write for five minutes in my journal each day.” You do that instead of saying, “I’m an insensitive slob and I need to stop telling people they’re driving me crazy.” Whatever.
My personal resolution this year is to be a better, sexier wife. For me, this means that I will actually speak when my husband comes home from work while I’m watching “Entertainment Tonight.” I will press the “mute” button and ask if he had a nice day. I will not look at the TV while I’m asking.
Unless they’re talking about something interesting like whether Gwenyth Paltrow is going to get together with Ben Affleck or where Prince William is applying to college. Then I may have to have him wait a second while I find a tape and push “record.”
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