Just like last year, U.S. News and World Report has released their list of ways to improve your life in the new year. Here are a few of their suggestions and what I think of them.
1. Drink screw-topped wines.
Already taken care of. I recently cut my hand when I tried to open a screw-top with a corkscrew. Really. You just have to unscrew them. It’s amazing.
2. Try that home before buying.
It’s possible the current owners won’t appreciate it, but they’ll do anything to sell their house that is worth $20,000 less than the price for which it was purchased. Make yourself at home.
3. Get a new toothbrush.
If you only do this yearly, you better make it a good one. Pick up some floss while you’re at it.
4. Get paid for good health.
With my asthma, insomnia and migraines, I can probably get a whole quarter.
5. Study philosophy.
Will do. Right after I see the forest for the trees.
6. Start using Twitter.
Now we’re talking.
7. Finish a crossword puzzle.
Thank goodness this isn’t plural and thank goodness they give you a whole year to get it done.
8. Plant a square-foot garden.
You won’t net much fruit, but you can still call yourself a gardener.
9. Add obstacles to your jog.
Just run down the middle of the street. Or, if you prefer a trail you can jump over other joggers.
10. Play a fake musical instrument.
I’m even going to spring for fake piano lessons for my kids. I’m generous like that.
At this moment, ten years ago today, I was lying in a hospital room with a monitor around my belly watching pitocin slowly drip into my vein. I had less than five contractions before the doctor made them stop. He then proceeded to tell me that I would be having my baby very soon. Literally. Ten weeks too soon, to be exact.
My firstborn was delivered weighing 2 lbs. 9 oz. and she lost two of those ounces in the first day of her life. Her legs were the diameter of a highlighter, her ears the size of a thumbnail. If you’ve seen a preemie as small as mine, you know that her skin was so thin you could see her veins, and some parts of her body hadn’t even developed yet.
The first time I saw my baby, she had a breathing tube down her throat, an IV in her belly button, and wires covering her tiny frame. She was so, so small and I was absolutely terrified.
But today, on her 10th birthday, she is happy and healthy. She overcame a whole lot of obstacles to get here, but you would never know that her father once held her entire body in one hand. Happy Birthday, sweet girl.
Now I’m faced with the knowledge that in three years I’ll have a teenager, and I find myself absolutely terrified all over again.
Yesterday morning, with family gathered around, my daughter presented my husband with a homemade present…101 Reasons Why I Love My Dad.
The list included, “You fuss about how old I am and tell me I am too big for being tucked in, but you still tuck me in anyway.” And, “You help me with math homework. DON’T TELL MOM I AM WRITING THIS!!!!! You are the only one I can ask for help, because Mom can’t do the math.” Sad, but oh so true.
As my husband read each line, I held my six year old son on my lap and we listened. It was wonderful and sweet, and the kids’ Grandma and I both began to cry.
He read the last item on the list, “You work and try as hard as you can. And you do it just for us.”
Grandma, who was clearly touched by the outpouring of love said, “That was really beautiful.”
And without missing a beat, my son said, “That was really boring.”