Last night as I lay in bed (at 10 pm – I rarely make it to midnight and this year was no exception), it came to me that resolution is a strange word. “Solutions again”. Is this why we keep making the same promises to ourselves, over and over again? Seriously, how many years do you have to decide that THIS is the year you will  lose weight, or eat better, or save more, or slow down? And how many years do you realize that you haven’t done it?

Yes, I know that the definition of the word is not really “re” “solve”. Or “re” “solution”. I know it has to do more with “firm determination” and “a course of action determined or decided on.” But this conundrum is maybe why I hate the idea of resolutions.

Nope, this year I am making accomplishments. Accomplishing things like helping 10 more people. Listening to my children. Finishing P90X3. Tasty Thursday’s second year. Earless rabbit launch. Learning to make risotto. Reconnecting with friends.

Enjoying life.

Accomplishing badassery. Who’s with me?

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