Still Measuring Success…

Ah, Summer.  Poets wax philosophical about thee.  Children long for thee.  Lawns turn brown in thee.  I capitalize thee.  Facebook blows up with graduation and prom pictures upon the arrival of thee.  And now, I shall stop calling thee “thee.”

Last June, when I was just a baby blogger, I wrote a post for Catonsville Patch called “Measures of Success,” in which I list and give an accurate account of my accomplishments and the importance they’ve played in my life.  Well, people, you know that empty feeling you have inside?  That vague longing you can’t seem to identify and articulate?  It’s your intense desire to know what I’ve gotten away with accomplished this year.  I’m here for you.  Here to cure what ails you, and it ain’t more cowbell.

Let’s take a little looksie back, shall we?

1.  Recapture my lost youth?  Right after I adjust to these new trifocals.

2.  Age gracefully?  Right after I rant a little bit more on Facebook about bathing suits and their evil ways.

3.  Lose weight?   Well, now this was interesting…whereas last year I worked out with a personal trainer and gained weight, this year I stopped working out with a trainer, but joined Weight Watchers.  I actually lost 8 pounds!!!  And get this – I kept it off for…wait for it…wait for it…TWO WHOLE WEEKS!   You guys are jealous.  Admit it.

4.  Clean and declutter areas of the house?  HAHAHAHAHA!  Unless you count the bizarre episode wherein I became extremely frustrated at the number of things piled on top of each other in my refrigerator.  I got so aggravated at how things would fall our of the fridge whenever I opened the door, I did what any normally functioning human being would have done.

I got rid of lots of extraneous cookbooks and organized the liquor.  The fridge is still a mess, but at least I can get my hands on the citrus vodka more easily. That’s what I call progress.

Finally, in the category of TMI, I would like to share something of which I am very proud.  It has to do with, well, activity in the bedroom.  Something involving…um…the bed.  Something that, over the course, of 21 married years, I’ve come to realize is as much if not more my responsibility than anyone else’s.  Something that has improved and increased in its frequency and regularity.  And that something is…(hushed whispers, here) changing the sheets on the bed.  Wow, that was hard to admit.

Yes, folks, changing the sheets on everyone’s bed was something I avoided at all costs.  One of my children could have a bloody nose all over his pillowcase, or be throwing up on his sheets, and I’ll be there thinking, “Well, if I just sop it up with the wet-vac and cover the rest with a towel, he can sleep on it for a few more weeks…”  No longer!

I can say with boundless pride that I have for MONTHS now, been changing the sheets on everyone’s bed every two weeks, whether they need it or not!  While, on what I creatively dub “Sheet Changing Day”, the dirty sheets are normally deposited in a corner of my room for a week or more, I would like to point out that on one of those sheet changing days, I even managed to WASH AND FOLD the dirty sheets!  Do you hear me, people?  On the same day!!!  They may have sat, folded, in the laundry basket for 10 more days or so before I put them into their respective closets, but still – one can’t help but be impressed by the ways in which I am continually working to improve myself, no?

Now, who wants an appletini?