Lower your expectations

My ambitions for this week are not so lofty as most people's, I think.

You may be training for a 5k or a triathlon, eating paleo or wheat-free, or implementing all sorts of wonderful screen-free, eating-at-the-table rules in your house, and maybe I thought I would be too, but actually I'm just trying to keep us all on an even keel as body clocks return to normal. Since B decided to add an extra three hours to his jetlag by heading to California for a three-day conference on Sunday afternoon, I get both the bedtime and waking-up ends of the messed-up-sleep stick, which strikes me as a little unfair. The fact that his hotel room was upgraded so that now he has an ocean view and can see the Queen Mary liner from his pillow-top mattress with plush down comforter is just rubbing salt into it.

Tomorrow, I lie in, is what I'm saying. No matter who's stealing whose markers or hiding whose Barbies or pulling down whose pants.

[At some point while we were away my children discovered the delight of the moon. Not the celestial orb, you understand, but the fact that you could pull down your pants and wiggle your backside at someone and it would be the most hilarious thing ever invented. I hope this is over soon. Maybe in ten years, if I'm lucky.]

So we are unpacked, the laundry is under control, the kitchen is clean(ish), and I have baked and given away most of half a batch of peanutbutter cookies, but other than that chaos reigns. It doesn't matter: sleep is a priority, and getting everyone back to square one is the vital thing.

I'm sure I'll get round to training for the 5k and overhauling my diet next week.

Resolute

Carr's Cheese Melts are either mankind's greatest invention or the item that will lead to the fall of civilization. I haven't decided which yet, but in the meantime I seem to be mainlining them like they're going out of fashion. I shall blame my sister-in-law, since it's her kitchen I'm sitting in, and therefore her crackers I'm bogarting.

I was feeling very noncommital about the whole new year's thing yesterday. I've really only got used to it being 2012, and now I'm expected to remember a whole new number? That's a bit demanding, for a woman who can probably tell you either what day it is or what date, but never both at the same time. I wasn't really getting into the spirit of the year-in-review thing or the looking-forward thing. I decided it was just another day.

However, with no particular sense of resolution, I have just submitted a tiny piece to the newspaper (and had it accepted) and signed up for a writing workshop. That seems quite motivated, somehow. Maybe it's subliminal.

Meanwhile, as we sat in McDonald's* this afternoon savouring the guilt-free taste of pure bribery, I asked the children if they'd made any resolutions. Then I had to explain what resolutions were, which ended up something like this:

Me: ... and so, sometimes people decide to try to change something in the new year, to make themselves a better person.

Dash, a little confused: But Mummy, I'm already a great person.

Once we got past that, they were all gung-ho about things they could do. Dash plans to try pasta again (again? he swears he used to eat it, but I know very well it has never passed his lips) and to read more books. Mabel is going to do more sit-ups (um?), eat carrots, and not scratch or bite her brother.

That final item didn't last the day, but maybe something will stick, some time. I find that going back after a trip away is often a good time to instigate a new rule, so maybe next week will find us all eating dinner in the kitchen instead of in front of the TV. That would certainly be a start.

Now, if I can just get the last of these cheese melts out of the way, I will also resolve to start running again.

*McDonald's in Ireland has bendy straws. And I'm sure the food is much less unhealthy than it is in America.