Umm, have you looked at your New Year’s resolutions lately? I made the unfortunate mistake of doing so just this morning. Out of five goals for 2013, and with less than four months left, I can only draw a faint pencil line through one, maybe two. Let’s assess.

Atop my list was painting our canary-yellow living and family rooms. I’ve wanted them changed since the day we made an offer on this house, more than three years ago, but I’ve done nothing to amend the situation apart from a one-time pulling of a paint-chip strip at Lowe’s in the brownish-beige category. Consequently, I’m calling an audible and will be swapping out “décor re-do” with “learn to shoot a gun.” I just read a very disturbing end-of-the-world novel and feel it’s the least I can do to protect my family when the looters/zombies arrive. Moving on.

Another resolution was to swear less. This one was an epic fail, especially over the summer months. I simply cannot be expected to “keep it clean” with four children crammed into an un-air-conditioned mini-van while dealing with the construction nightmare on U.S. 31 in Westfield. How the freak am I supposed to get to Target gosh darn it?

I also promised to cut back on my soda intake and actually did so during Lent. No wait, eliminating diet Coke only worked because I subbed-in diet cherry vanilla Dr. Pepper. But I do think I drink a tad less of the fizzy now, thanks in a large part to my new addiction to McDonald’s sweet tea. Super-size that mother!

One thing I can definitely cross off is, “stop being so critical of my oldest daughter.” I am now very aware of what I say about her hair styles and clothing choices, and have done a remarkable job of keeping the judgmental bullcrap bottled up. As long as she is relatively clean and her booty cheeks aren’t hanging out, I support her unique and interesting fashion statements. You go, girl!

I might also get away with checking off “make new friends.” I did, after all, join a yoga class last spring, and have actually talked a few times to the other dance moms. (Yes, I’m a dance mom.) But I must admit I would rather curl up with a good book than go out to a party with strangers. Maybe not the aforementioned doomsday hardback, because that just freaked me out, but a nice smut novel fireside always makes for a fine evening.

There is still plenty of time to meet my goals. I’m not giving up the ghost yet, but I do feel a bit behind schedule. Hopefully you’re faring better with your own resolutions. Peace out.