I have a dream.

(I’m working backwards here, people. Starting with New Years resolutions and moving back to New Years itself, and my birthday, and Christmas… and before you know it I’ll be recounting tales of Easter 2003. Deal with it. Doing things back asswards isn’t annoying. It’s endearing. Right??)

I don’t usually make resolutions. I feel silly telling myself that I am going to work on losing weight, or exercising more, or eating better, just because it is January 1st and I feel like I should. Because really, I know myself and I know how long those resolutions will last before going the way of last night’s leftovers. (The trash, is what I mean, not moldy in the back of the refrigerator, which is where leftovers really go to die in my house.)

But this year, I felt a little differently. I’ve done a lot this past year, and it gave me a certain sense of accomplishment to look back and be able to recall the achievements of 2006. Also, I have some things that I think I can realistically work. And that I need to work on. So while I’d still like to lose 10 pounds, start running, and eat the USDA recommended servings of vegetables, let’s not kid ourselves. I’ll start with the following things that might actually happen in the next year.

Resolution 1: Keep the house clean without endangering my relationship

I don’t care what you say – boys and girls are different. We think differently. I’ll all for equality and women’s lib too, but you will never ever convince me that our brains are not simply hardwired differently.

I like to keep the house relatively clean. I am no clean-freak, oh no, but I like my dust bunnies taken care of at the point of “moderate” rather than “severe”.

Matt also likes to keep the house relatively clean. Which is a good thing. Except that his version of clean? is not the same as mine. Not even close. So weekend cleaning sessions usually end with me giving him a look and a sarcastic comment that might make other, weaker, men cry, and with him sulking in the basement family room (we call it a family room because we are classy like that).

I know that my snapping really makes him feel unappreciated for all that he does do, which is really quite a lot. I just get so frustrated that he doesn’t care about the same things. It’s like the commercial for that movie with Jennifer Aniston and Vince Vaughn, where she screams, “I want you to WANT to do the dishes.” Except that I am not as attractive as Jennifer Aniston, but otherwise, it is exactly like that.

So, I am resolving to be better about this, at least until we can afford to have someone come clean our house for us (read: will never happen). I will recognize all of the things that Matt does around the house and I will discuss things with him rather than waiting until I am so annoyed that I snap completely.

I am not letting him off the hook completely, oh no. I still have some basic expectation that he will pitch in and not expect me to do all of the work. But I will also make a concious effort not to fault him because, what, you didn’t KNOW to scrub the grout in the kitchen with a toothbrush, and no, not the old blue toothbrush, the old RED toothbrush, because I said so that’s why. And damnit, we use THIS kind of cleaner on the bathroom sink and this OTHER kind on the tub. Duh.

So I am a little high-strung. Sue me.

(Stay tuned for more exciting posts as we count our way down to Easter 2003. It was a good one, really, with a particularly tasty chocolate bunny. But that’s all I’ll say for now, other than DON’T DESERT ME NOW, FAIR READERS. I think there are only 2 of you and I can’t afford to lose you to better, more frequently updated blogs.)

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