Here’s Ray at 7 reading a book I wrote before he was born and got published shortly thereafter. It’s for the good ten-year-old reader but Ray has always been strong in the reading department. I didn’t tell him to read it. He found it somewhere buried in the piles, noticed the name on it was that of his old mother, and began at the breakfast table. I would never let him read my other book (it’s too dark) but this one was a comedy folk-fairy tale type piece so I’m okay with that. I cannot believe that it’s been nearly eight years since I’ve published anything and the horror is deep. What’s happened to my life? I’m almost fifty already. I was sure I’d have made more progress by now. Time is such an elusive, sneaky devil. Being in one’s forties and parenting three little kids is incredibly boring and inexpressibly beautiful, and I’m in awe of these mini-people and all that they see and do and feel, but I also want social services to find a nice, normal couple to foster parent them half the day, maybe on some days to even adopt them. Anyway, I’m going to share some of my private resolutions – resolutions I don’t like to share with anyone. I always know that when I’m thinking about things I’d be mortified to share with a lot of people that the best thing to do is to write them down and publicize them immediately. One of the people on my Facebook list told me a while ago that she can’t bear my posts sometimes, they’re so personal, she said, in a horrified and sickened kind of way. They make me uncomfortable, she said, but I have to read them, too.
I love that.
Anyway, I always make my resolutions extra lofty and impossibly difficult so I’m sure to fail within the first week, even in a few days. I like to see the enormity of my deepest wishes, all naked and vulnerable and twisting in shame on the floor, wriggling like larva or mealworms, ready to get tossed out with the compost. So here they are, these hopeless resolutions, in all their banalities: stop eating all sugar, exercise every day, lose weight, be patient with my children, be less critical of my spouse, who is being sworn in today as Alderman of Ward 1 right here in Kingston today, and to write and write and write, to write until I have said all that I need to say, to get it all out, like a giant hiccup or a huge irrepressible tic, to package it up and ship it to various publishing and marketing powers and to take more steps toward being what I’m supposed to be, really, what I’ve always wanted to be but don’t really feel like I am. Not yet anyway.
There. That wasn’t so bad, was it?
Tell me yours, dear readers. Leave nothing out. Be brave.
HAPPY NEW YEAR dear beloved friends and acquaintances, you are all so lovely, so wonderful, so imperfect. Let’s have a wicked 2016. Bring it. xx