It's that day again, that calendar date that says, "Let's try this again..." The day when people budget for their new gym membership, only to quit by mid-February.
As Sam gets older, creeping into ownership of his own thoughts and actions, I'm trying to decide what I want to do with ME, for ME, next. For someone who was once told, "You're independent to a fault!" I can say that motherhood and marriage have had their challenges. Not because I don't love them, but because I feel that I've given up my identity and dreams in order to make sure lunch is on the table each day for Sam, piping hot and nutritious. It gets tedious.
I was thinking last night, as I was dancing to the band at the Doherty's party, how I've probably seen over 700 live shows in my lifetime. At least. I was dreaming about the day soon when I'll buy a last-minute ticket to Paris, or fly out to see my favorite band play the Fillmore in SF. When I can be a little more like the old Jill, resting assured that Matt and Sam are waiting for me back at the ranch. That is what a good marriage and a good life are all about: having time to be yourself along the way. I'm very lucky to have the support system that I do, a husband who says, "You're great at everything you do - go do it!"
And as for New Year's Resolutions: we are buying a treadmill for the house! God, we're so suburban.
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