High Resolution

So, I suppose you're all wondering how I'm doing with my new year's resolutions, and if you weren't that's probably because I forgot to tell you I had made some. Oh yes, Millennium Housewife (and family by default) is excellent at making new year's resolutions, excellent I tell you. On the 30th December, every year without fail, I hop skip and jump to the kitchen table to make a long, substantial and to be fair incredibly ambitious list of new year's resolutions. Then, with true diligence and determination I eradicate them one by one using the following criteria:
1)Remove all resolutions that prevent consumption of stress relievers (wine/chocolate/Solpadeine)
2)Remove any that will result in time away from family and friends (gym/volunteer work/weight watchers)
3)Remove the one about making friends at the gym
4)Remove the one about the gym family membership
5)Remove any weight orientated resolution to prevent sense of failure next December 30th
6)Remove any resolution that requires Husband to keep a resolution too. The likelihood of failure is directly proportionate to the number of spouses involved in said resolution.

So, that leaves me with: Join or create a new religion, which I am going to give a really good go this year. Last year's attempt was lame to say the least, I only attracted eight followers, mainly from the local Slimming World and a couple I found outside Weatherspoon's. It had it's successes too though, the Thou Shalt Not Walk a Mouse on Thursdays decree was followed, ahem, religiously, as was the Turn Up When You Feel Like It approach to worship. It was a good religion I felt, just a bit lacking in a worshipable deity, I think that's where I went wrong. So the next few weeks are going to be dedicated to finding a good deity and a place to put it. Ha! Resolution almost complete - dedication and planning always win the day. Anyway, while having a heart to heart with Husband last month, we both agreed that we really should try and keep up our fitness levels (unfortunate turn of phrase from him, my fitness level is easily maintained by sitting watching Murder She Wrote and drinking Horlicks), but he's right (sigh), fitness is important and crossing out fitness related resolutions is becoming less and less satisfying every year.

So it was back to the gym (by back to, I mean creeping in, back to the wall, hoping nobody can see me, not as in returning to the gym), the treadmill, the (kid's) weights, the aerobics classes, the step classes (although if you can't actually manage the step can it feasibly be called a step class?), the coffee shop, the melting cookies. I calculate that 2.3 cookies=1 step class, and they said maths was my weak point, Ha! Take that old maths teacher, 1 weak subject+1 weakness for soft cookies = substantially improved ability at weak subject, I may try to sell that concept to the Education Minister and win a Nobel prize for singlehandedly improving School Performance. Watch this space.

Anyway, I have been really good at the gym, and improvements are being seen. I have this huge mental image of where I want to be in a few years time: Thin (obviously), even thinner, with new teeth, boobs, hair, nails, oh go on then while we're at it, new brain. Then of course everything will be different, people will notice, cue Tyra Banks, doe eyed and full bosomed, fairy godmother heart worn ostentatiously on her sleeve lest you forget who this show's really about, holding aloft my best studio shot breathy voice whispering: Congratulations Millennium Housewife, you're 197,000 steps away to becoming America's Next Top Model. Yup, that's what I'm aiming for, I'm nothing if not ambitious. In a few years I'll be stretched to six foot (I'm not sure how but I'm sure stretching technology will have moved on by then), buffed and betoothed to perfection, you won't recognise me. Watch out Kate Moss, The Middle Aged Modelling Agency only has a few places you know.