Back when I finished reading 12 Ways Your Phone is Changing You, I decided the year 2018 would be an anti-social one. By that I mean that for an entire calendar year, I would give up all forms of social media. But when the week of Thanksgiving hit, I decided to toss it early, trading pixels for people, captions for conversations, and cacophony for calm.
[Insert picture of beautiful tablescape that was not taken since I had no Instagram to post it on]
I’ve been at it for nearly 8 weeks, and it’s incredible how easy and beneficial that decision has been. But that’s for a later post. By the way, if you want to join me, it’s not too late. Even if you want to try it for a short time, I promise you won’t regret it. I already have several other sisters who are standing by my side, inviting the quiet into their lives.
Since I started my resolution early, I no longer think of it as my resolution, but more as my lifestyle. Which, of course, meant only one thing: I needed a new resolution. I seriously thought about bringing back my One Word Resolution for an encore. And, of course, if you read that post, you know I’m a big fan of qualitative over quantitative resolutions. In essence, I don’t like setting myself up for failure. Instead, I prefer to look at one facet of my life and figure out how to make it better.
The first week of the new year, I thought a lot about my marriage. I know I say this often, and those of you who know Brent, know how incredibly amazing he is. I don’t know anyone else who sacrifices more for his family, and the man never utters one complaint. Not one. Ever. Me? I tend to be a crabby patty who is stressed out and strung up by the rope I need to dry all of my clothes on. I make up for all the complaining he doesn’t do, plus I’m determined to earn bonus points.
So my qualitative resolution this year is to simply make Brent have the best married year of his life (which in turn means I’ll probably have the best one of my life as well). It doesn’t mean that our circumstances will be perfect. But it does mean that there will be way less complaining, less wearing my emotions on my sleeve, picking my battles wisely, more encouragement, more support, more flexibility, more positivity, more laughter. Honestly, I don’t think it will be hard to accomplish my goal.
Several nights ago, after I finished grilling a NY strip in a cast iron skillet with a side of fear and trembling because I’ve never preheated an empty skillet in an oven to 500 degrees before (I used an oven mitt on top of my oven mitt to retrieve it for the stovetop), we sat down for dinner, and after a few sips of wine, I blurted out that I wanted this year to be his best married year. That’s key to resolutions. Accountability. I said it, so now I have to do it.
So when I see dirty socks on the floor and I’m tempted to nag, I’m just going to say as excitedly in my head as possible, “Best year ever!” and pick them up for him.
Or when he comes home late from work after I’ve slaved all day 10 minutes throwing ingredients into a slow cooker, I will bite my tongue, scream in my head “Best year ever!” and greet him at the door with a hug and a kiss.
Because for every one of those petty transgressions, my husband has an arsenal full of positive qualities. If my marriage is about me obtaining Big Bird beauty, here’s what I probably look like 80 per cent of the time:
And, yes! That is an actual ornament that hangs on an actual Christmas tree in my actual house. Every year. Why? Well, I’m not naming any names, but it came as a packaged deal from someone whose name rhymes with Drent.
So, in short, here’s hoping you, too, have the best Big Bird year ever.