I'm in the Pacific Time Zone, so by the time I finish this entry it will be midnight in the UK.
As you know, 2016 has been a right royal little shit for me and mine.
In more ways than one, of course, but anyone who has read this blog knows the biggest reason.
I'm having a hard time looking forward, as they told us to do at my first widows' support group meeting. As they tell us to do every week at Weight Watchers. Don't dwell on the past, remember, but don't live there.
I get that.
Having a little trouble with it, but I do get it.
So this year, the resolutions for the New Year are a family affair, because I just can't do it alone.
We're all going to be eating better, sleeping more, moving more, even when we don't want to.
I'll spend the extra money for food that's good for us, be the bad guy and make them go to bed on time (as well as going myself), getting up and walking my ass to the school bus stop to pick up Lizzy instead of driving there.
We'll cook more and eat fast food less.
I've got the tools to do these things (although I have to get the dishwasher fixed, and there are still medical bills leftover from Laston's last illness). I'll make sure Lizzy gets her counseling and I my support groups (Abby seems to be doing okay right now but if she needs them I'll do that too). I'll get to work on time (and as that schedule will change in February, it may be easier then, schedule willing). I will make sure we do a little work a day to clear out the constant clutter. These are my worst habits, and they need fixing.
With the exception of the work schedule and the decluttering, all this begins Tuesday morning as the kids are out of school until then.
And the swearing? Fuck it. A girl deserves to have one bad habit.