"I hate always failing at my New Year's Resolutions. Often I pretend not to make any but end up keeping a secret mental list of untrackable and therefore unattainable goals. This year will be different. I have just a few main goals and I'll be blogging about them so hopefully I'll be able to keep track of my progress and actually succeed at something."
Take care of my body - Fail
Manage all aspect of my business without allowing it to overtake my life - Fail
Post regularly about my shops and my creative endeavors - Fail.
I'm going to get back on the horse and try these again in 2010. Maybe I'll get it right this time - or at least earn a C. A C would be better than an F.
Speaking of grades and goals. Molly is going back to school. I am waiting for the guidance counselor to call back this morning. I'm so conflicted. I have really been enjoying putting together her curriculum but it is obvious that she is not working hard enough. We have reached the mother-daughter stage where I cannot push her any further without unleashing the full force of my fury some days and that's not a happy place for either of us to be.
She also wants to participate in the drama program - apparently the district has hired a top-notch music educator who is doing really wonderful things with the kids. Have I mentioned that Molly has an incredible voice? I have a fairly sweet little voice that blends well in the choir (when I'm not croaking sick) and I am a "Twinkle,Ttwinkle Little Star" virtuoso, it having been the lullaby of choice for the last 15 years or so but I've never had the range, power or confidence that MB is developing. I think she may be taking after her Uncle Jonathan and she should get more vocal training than I can provide. And have you seen her dramatic recitation of the Highwayman? Holey cow. Where did she come from anyway?
She also talks abut Doctors Without Borders a lot lately. It is an agency she would like to work with. BOCES has a nursing program for juniors and seniors that would give her education and experience in health care early on (read - before obtaining enormous college debt) so she could decide whether or not medicine is a field she can really manage.
I worry about social drama. So Much. I worry a lot about Math. And homework. I worry about how on earth she will catch the bus every morning. (I fear that it will involve me getting up at 5 and pelting her with ice cubes and threats until she is dressed and out the door. I'll probably have a stroke). I worry that my unbelievably enjoyable teenager will turn into a miserable mean girl who hates her mother by imperceptible degrees. I worry that she will hate the whole High School Social box. Neither Bry nor I fit comfortably into the expected mold back when we were in school and I'm sure MB won't fit either. (Strangely, I don't worry about that with Maxx. He seems to be creating his own mold already, becoming the class clown in Kindergarten.)
. . . .