Okay. Sorry. I got carried away.

But it IS, in fact, the sort-of-beginning of a new year, the Kids are back at school, the Fat Loss Program is two weeks underway, the halls are bare of vinyl-pine needles, and we don’t have a lick of snow on the ground. In fact, the average afternoon temps from the last week hover right around 50 degrees. So, what I’m telling you is, Spring is Coming.

Oh, wait. That’s not what I’m telling you.

It’s the New Year. That’s what I’m telling you. And new things are good things.

Also, I am a terrible resolution-keeper. I think some of you knew that. But this year, I decided not to wait for January to set goals which I probably could not keep. So I started in December, and so far, so good.

Pound a week. Check. (Only through April. Not forever. Neither of us needs to worry.)

Speak and behave more kindly to my Kids (and other people, but somehow that’s just naturally easier, because I am wicked or something). Check.

Remember how to Get Over It. Check-ish.

Write. Wellllll… Um. It will come. I’ve been on vacation, remember? Vacation from my PROBLEMS.

Also, I’m Taking Back the Budget. I’ve always been a pretty good budgeter, but lately, I’ve been lazy with the grocery budget in particular. So, starting today, the weekly Wilhite grocery budget is $60. Plus a once-a-month trip to Costco, coming in under $150. Look at me go, putting it all in writing and stuff.

—

So, what’s new with you?

Yes.

Today I’m grateful for YouTube. Because why? Because it’s going to teach me to tap dance. And who, I ask you, wouldn’t like to learn to tap dance? Well, I would. And so I will. For free. At the feet of YouTube, as I may have mentioned. I shall begin with very basic basics, as I have never actually learned any such thing before. I will tap. And shuffle. And fa-lap. And hop (oh, just wait till you see me hop). In my bare feet. In my kitchen. In my Ninja Jammies (black yoga pants and a black long-sleeved T-shirt, Mad Skills optional).

You know that feeling? That one where you’re just POSITIVE that nothing is getting done, or getting done correctly, or getting done for the right reason?

Me, too.

So today, I want you to remember this:

Start at the beginning. Get the first thing tackled. Step through it. And when it’s done, or done-ish, take a look at it. Really? Was that so bad? No. I thought not. Now move on.

Get to the next beginning. Step through that one, too. Reward yourself during it, with a song or a treat or a laugh or a massage. (Probably not the massage. It just sounded like SUCH a good idea for a minute.)

Move to the next thing, or the next part of the first thing, or the part of whatever thing that will make you feel like Something is Done Well. Take a little stock. See, note, pat yourself on the back for the parts that have been done. Remember to do this part, because nobody else is going to notice that the laundry IS done (because they’ll only need that thing from the load that isn’t yet) or that the pantry is clean (only that there’s nothing inside it to eat) or that the words are written.

Then, tell yourself this: “I’m baby stepping. I’m doing the work. I’m not a slacker.”

And you’ll feel… like Bob. But without the goldfish. Oh, wait… you still have goldfish. Two of them. So, just like Bob. And how does Bob feel? “I feel good. I feel great. I feel wonderful.”

No? Not quite there? Well, then, you may feel like you can start at one, and go on to two, and even move toward three. And that will do.

You can do it.

XO
Becca

I enjoy getting what I want when I don’t even have to ask for it (like Kid 4 coming to snuggle up right on my lap, or grapes being on sale at the grocery store). But I enjoy it a whole lot when I pay for it, too – like buying online. See, I love Amazon. I know. As an author, I’m supposed to be above all the commercial-ness and ease with which the common herd buys their books. But I’m not. I have no bookstores within 25 miles, and the 25 mile one was … yep. A Borders. So. There’s that.

And it’s not just books. I buy cereal from them. And presents for my family. And pillowcases.

Lots of pillowcases.

It was a third-party thing, where Amazon was just acting as a link between me and my pillowcase supplier (there’s a metaphor in there, I’m sure). And the Amazon people sent me a “your order is official, your wish is my command” email. Then I saw the probably delivery date. Problem. Because the 3-5 days in the ad became 7-9 days in reality. So I sent a note.

And I got a response. Within minutes. From some nice guy who WANTED TO FIX THE ISSUE AND MAKE IT ALL RIGHT. Who apparently called UPS and FedEx and asked how to make it possible to get me what I wanted. Who responded again, and again, with clarifications and questions and assurances, and even an offer to cancel my order if I wasn’t happy.

Wasn’t happy? Are you kidding me? With someone standing over my virtual shoulder (in an entirely un-creepy way) and watching my back, I was so, so happy.

And I want to be that guy.

I want to deliver what I promise. I want to make sure people in my world, in my sphere of influence, are glad they chose to deal with me.

I want to deliver and then say thank you.

I want to deliver and have people say, Oh, no. Thank you.

I want to deliver the goods.

And then you get cranky because you’re really not that good at waiting,
and so you start talking about the change,
because you think that if you talk it out, the change will come?

And then you think about the change some more, and you see what a great change it would be,
and you ponder the change,
because Sending Out the Positive Thoughts is all the rage, and surely the change will come?

And then you think that someone really ought to get on this thing, making this change,
So you whine about it for a while,
because then everyone will get the hint and make it easy for the change to come?

And then you eat something?

And then you take a nap?

And then, you know that moment when the realization hits
that it’s nobody’s change but yours,
and that if you really want the change, well then, for the love, it’s time for you to make it come?

I know those days, too.

1. Fifteen dollars worth of new books.

2. Fifteen days of snowshoeing activity.

3. Fifteen extra minutes in the hot, hot shower.

4. Fifteen dollars worth of produce.

5. Fifteen minutes of YouTube silliness (how ’bout Literal Video?)

6. Fifteen agent queries. (Yikes.)

7. Fifteen minutes of back-scratch – I’m sure I could talk at least one Kid into helping me out with this one.

8. Fifteen letters. Hand-written, enveloped, stamped, and sent (why is this such a luxury?).

9. Fifteen dollars worth of hair product.

10. Fifteen borrowed library books.

11. Fifteen phone calls to the long-lost.

12. Fifteen girlie movies (not THAT kind) added to the Netflix queue.

13. Fifteen minutes of Wilhite Dance Party (the last one was brought to you by ABBA).

14. Fifteen dollars worth of new, soft, cotton socks.

15. Fifteen minutes of after-dinner games.

Ivie is turned in to the Publishers! After 3 drafts and then a longer third revision than I estimated, she’s fully dressed and ready to be seen.

I’m interested to see how this pans out. It’s strange that my self-esteem isn’t so tied up in this book as it has been in the past. Don’t get me wrong – it’s not like I’ve suddenly lost my neuroses (how would you even recognize me then?) but I’ve grown a tiny sprout of confidence.

Want to know what that looks like? It looks like, hey, this is funny, and I don’t even have to ask anyone else if he thinks so. It looks like, this feels different than anything else I’ve ever done, and that is fine. It looks like, if Current Publisher doesn’t care for it, someone else will.

Isn’t it bizarre?

And now, to the celebration part. Today I get to:

* start a new book (writing)

* start a new book (reading)

* make bread, white

* actually clean the bathrooms I threatened to clean yesterday

* clip the plants that need to be winterized (this is always a good idea that somehow never leaves “good idea” land, but maybe now. Maybe)

And you? What are you celebrating?