A good friend and I have agreed to be each other's (sort of joking/sort of serious) "life coach buddies" to keep us on our resolutions. It started as a joke, but now I think it's kind of great to have someone to check in with on my own goals as well as to offer any insights on helping him achieve his. He's a pretty inspiring guy in that he reads 50 books a year. That's five-zero! And he has a job and a life and a family to boot. So I'm going to see if I can do the same while reminding myself that a 62 page "Unauthorized Biography of Milo Ventimiglia" published by Tiger Beat doesn't count.
I was talking to the BBDD about my resolutions. I told him how I want to be more understanding and less judgmental of people. Then I said nonchalantly and rather jovially, "Actually, I want to be more understanding and less judgmental of people I love. Everyone else, I'm gonna keep judging. I like judging. Judging is fun!" So now I'm trying to figure out how to keep my resolution, stated specifically as, "To recognize that the majority of people, the majority of the time (myself included), are doing the best they can," while acknowledging that some elements of this blog--and my social life itself--would be shut down cold turkey if I actually worked to "stop judging." Quelle drame. :)
In other news, Bambina and I took advantage of the FOOT of snow yesterday to build our first ever Snow Couch. Ever since she was a teeny tiny baby, she has been totally into chairs. When we'd visit GiGi's house, she'd have to sit in every single chair in her living room just to see which one she liked best. She'd try to sit on anything that looked even remotely chair-like. We even had this baseball-sized clock in the shape of a chair that she would constantly try to get her tushie on, and as tiny as she was, her butt was certainly larger than a baseball. Even last snowstorm's Snow Buddha ended up a crumpled heap after Miz Bambina decided to see if she could sit on it. So this time she decided to skip the middle man and just have us make a snow chair. But when she wanted me to sit with her, I gently explained that Mama's bum might need a little more seating capacity than hers. Hence the evolution of the Snow Couch. To which she insisted we add a small "drinks table" for her snow cranberry juice.
I'm now proud to report that she's just a TV remote and a Patriots game away from total Massachusetts-hood.