Here’s how it was all gonna go down:

Woke up at 6 am. Got my coffee and my bible. Totally stoked. Ready to pray! Workout! Gonna clean all the stuff! Jesus is so awesome!

And then a small blonde child showed up, face all squinched up and sad. “I hadda bad dream,” he said, and in that presumptuous way of all children, smushed over the bible and my journal and squirmed onto my lap because No, Mom. There is no quiet time for YOU.

And then the husband decided to get in on the game and said, all jolly, “Well, good MORNING wee BLONDE! The DAY is JUST starting! Up and AT EM!” He talks like that a lot, like he’s a motivational speaker and also somebody is banging a big bass drum in the background. It’s sort of endearing. And when it’s not, it’s marriage.

Anyhow, I hiss at the husband with my eyes because NO, it is NOT time for the BLONDE TO GET UP (I have my own bass drum I guess) and I start speaking to Blonde all Obi One like. “No. It’s not morning. Not at all. You are going to go back to bed. These are not the droids you’re looking for,” etc. etc.. because, as I am a mom and can foresee more than two events ahead of me, unlike the sweet husband, I knew that if I allowed the wee blonde to actually stay awake I would rue it later. RUE  IT.

And of course every mom knows this. So I don’t even have to explain it here, do I? Perhaps I’m just including this story for the male audience.

Anyhow. I had hopes. I had the bible and the journal still, upstairs, with the slightly confused but sleepy Blonde. It would still work, this morning. I would still have my Jesus time.

And then I fell back asleep.

So much for Jesus time.*

Small boys when they wake up do not sweetly look at you and say, “Oh, of course. QUIET TIME. We’ll just sit quietly and wait. In fact, let me get you a cup of coffee. Do you care for cream?”

But instead, we did do this:

Still one of my favorite views ever. My lovely little town. If you squint, you can see my boys waaaaaay ahead of me. Hosmer is looking longingly at them because I am slow. He was built for speed.

And then, we did this:

Yes. I watched my kids be smart because chess.

Also, we ate cookies and hot cocoa with REAL whipped CREAM and DARN it was GOOD. And it seems that big bass drum thing is back. It’s a useful motif, to help express strong emotions, like irritation at husbands or chocolate anything.

And then, I came home and I started to panic. It’s New Year’s Eve. There’s planning to do. Tomorrow has to be PERFECT. Because it’s a NEW YEAR. It has to be ON POINT. Oh shut UP bass DRUM!

You know the drill. Momsie has an all or nothing personality. I am always either the shark or the victim in the water. I never get to be krill, ok ?

And today, I wanted to MAKE A LOT OF LISTS to get my plan for 2016 FIRED UP and READY TO GO.

ATTACK!!!!!

I know. This took a sort of violent turn, with the sharks and attacking and stuff. I assure you, no blogs were harmed in the making of this post. (The readers? Time will tell.)

So, instead? I looked up a whole lot of memes about resolutions and started watching videos with kitties in them. And then:

I fell asleep again. And the boys watched Wild Kratts because it’s EDUCATIONAL LEAVE ME ALONE.

And I realized:

And also:

 

I know. Totally overdid it on the memes. Maybe next time I’ll actually write something. But for now, I gotta go play Battleship with my boys and maybe eat some Reese’s.

Happy New Year’s Eve. I will probably try to stay up until midnight and make it to ten ish like last year. But there will be some cuddling in there with the not-so-annoying-after-all husband, and probably a movie and maybe some more chocolate.

Life is good.

Resolution for 2016 (This is a good one. I didn’t write it. It’s in the bible. That book has a lot of good stuff in it. No memes, though.):