We are more then half way into January and I haven’t made any resolutions. Quite honestly I don’t plan to. This is probably because for me, it just feels like I’m doing the same shit on a different day. Don’t misunderstand me I have hope for the future, enormous hope, but as 2021 starts up I’m still doing the same things. I’m still taking care of patients, I’m still trying to finalize a divorce and refinance my house, and I’m still trying to get my life in order. But then again I feel like most of us are. If parenthood has taught me anything it’s that none of us have the answers and every day presents new challenges. Recently I was fortunate to have 11 days off from work which was glorious. I decided to pour my energy into trying to get my house organized and clean. In retrospect I should have poured myself some drinks instead. The majority of my Christmas decorations are still up and my house is probably in a worse state then when I started, which is mostly thanks to my adorable, highly energetic and feral four year-old Squishy. I ended my second day home by balling my eyes out because this kid had decided to go into my dresser drawers, take a pair of glasses out and hide them away on me. This meant they could literally be anywhere in the house. Literally. Fucking. Anywhere. I was convinced I would find them by accidentally stepping on them, obstructed from my view because of the mountain of clothes/toys/shit on top of them. You’ll all be very happy to know I found them in my laundry basket, along with the television remote that had recently gone missing, completely intact. Towards the end of the week my soon to be ex-husband reflected on how I had spent so much time on the house and I had nothing to show for it. Well thank you Captain Obvious for pointing that out because it was completely lost on me. I wanted to tell him it’s because I don’t have any help. If the ex and I lived apart then there would be nights where the mess at least wouldn’t get any bigger because the kids would be in a completely different location. Most days while I was cleaning one room, Squishy was in another room practically ripping it to shreds while the ex-hubs was upstairs having some alone time. The funny thing is I don’t really need him to help me clean, it would just be helpful if he could watch the little guy and prevent him from destroying everything he touches. But it often feels like to me whenever I’m home that I’m expected to watch the children, do all the zoom sessions with the children, and try to keep the house clean without completely losing my marbles. And on a side note those zoom sessions with the four year old are fantastic, I’d rather lick my toilet bowl clean then have to do those shits ever again. I think if I could wish for anything in 2021 it would be to feel less pressured, less stressed. Or maybe it would be better if Squish just got into less shit. As I stated earlier, I am hopeful for the future, no matter what it should bring, I’ll just make sure I have a crapload of cleaning supplies and band-aids on hand. But for now I will put on a brave face, pour myself a big ass mimosa, and go clean up the pot of glue Squishy finger painted my living room with.