He's Rolling, He's a Rolling Stone

Most people, when learning that they somehow lost weight instead of gained it over the holidays, would take it as a sign to keep up the good work. I take it as a sign to create another cookie-eating opportunity in my day.  Different strokes people, it's not just a show from the eighties. On the serious tip, even though I'm way too much of an ornery cuss to do New Year's resolutions, after all the lovely excess of the past couple of months my body is naturally demanding better food and more exercise. Mike and I have resumed our usual healthy, veggie-heavy dinners, which feels good. And this is so not like me, but I signed up to do a 21 day yoga challenge online. I really need something to jump start my practice, and it seems like just the thing. It starts next Tuesday - I'll let you know how it goes. When the baby was born I set a goal to run a 7-mile road race this coming August, and if I want to stick to that, I had better figure out a way to start training at some point. It's just a matter of finding a way to work it into our already nutzoid schedule. We'll find a way, or we won't. The thing is, my baby won't be a baby forever and while that means things will get easier in some ways, like I can go for a run in the morning instead of nursing, I'm not ready to think about the not-baby part. As it is my bean is tearing up the floor with lightning speed. Yep, he's a crawler now. And besides the fact that we need to get on the baby proofing STAT, it signals a joyous growth milestone, as well as another way in which he's leaving his infancy behind. Oh, darling.

Another thing I need to recommit to for the million time is writing. I made a promise to Mike, and more importantly, to myself, to finish my novel already and do something with it. Being on the fourth draft with no ending, it's time to just finish the thing already. And goddamn, Snooki published a novel. There's no justice in the world, etc., but I need to use my bitterness to fuel my inspiration. So there you have it, my non-resolutions for 2011

I was sad to hear of Gerry Rafferty's passing yesterday. So in his honor, the sweet, sax-y sound of the seventies.