I love the Christmas season, love giving gifts, shop 'til I drop and eating goodies 'til I pop, visiting with friends near and far. And I love to go all out decorating -- inside and out. The trees (yes, I put up two), window candles, wreaths on all the doors, outside lights and a hodge-podge of other decorations I decide to do as the mood strikes. They all get put up on Thanksgiving or the day after at the latest.

They brighten the house and my mood, even on those dismal cloudy days. The majority of the tree ornaments are handmade by my mom, dear friends, various relatives and even me. Some are very old. Some new. All are cherished. I try to add a new decoration every year, and did it again thanks to a friend. (This explains my need for two trees. )

New Year's eve or day (depending on the weather and my mood), I take it all down and lovingly pack it in boxes. Yeah, right...

Face it -- by the time new year rolls around, I'm pooped. It's work taking all this ho-ho-ho down. And my mind is usually cluttered with characters that demand their story be written. So they bug me with ideas as I pack things so they won't break and then lug the boxes to the basement and stow them. I swear I won't get this much out next year. Nope, this is it. I won't go overboard again. I'm a writer -- this takes precious time away from writing.

Yeah, right, like who am I kidding? Even while I groan and grouse about my dull backache and sore muscles and scramble to jot ideas down on the scrap of forgotten Christmas paper, I know when next year comes around, I'll enthusiastically drag all the decorations out and start in again.

I'm thrilled to report I now know how to use the iPod. And I won't bore you with the story of how late I stayed up grooving to my first playlist, lovingly called Holy Mix, which includes some of my favorite U2 songs. :)

So New Year's Eve. It ain't what it used to be. It used to be THE night to get crazy. Come on, the calendar's changing! Woohooo! I semi-remember some great (and not-so-great) parties from my youth.

Fast forward to now. The kids are spending the night with Grandma and Grandpa tonight...their second sleepover ever. They're excited. We're ecstatic. New Year's Eve without the kids!!!And what are we doing? We're staying home. Yeeeehaw.

How pathetic is that? We thought about going to dinner, but we've eaten out just about every night this week (the husband really needs to go back to work so we can get back into a routine.) We thought we'd do something different and...(gasp!)...STAY HOME! The cook of the family (which isn't me) will prepare shrimp creole. Mmmm.

Then we thought about going to a movie. I'm not a movie person, but every once in a while, I get nutty and decide to see one at the theater. But there's really nothing playing that we both want to see.

We thought about hitting a local bar to hear some live music...which is extra tempting this year since they've outlawed smoking in bars and restaurants. But...something tells me we wouldn't know any of the bands playing and who knows if we'd like them.

So where does this leave us? Patheticville, that's where. No, staying home actually isn't pathetic. The fact that we're completely content to stay home, would RATHER stay home on this night when the kids are gone...you'd think we're senior citizens.

I'm 34. Hubby's 33. Stop laughing.Happy New Year to everyone, and if anyone out there's at a grooving party tonight, do me a favor, please. Have a drink for me...or three! :)

In light of the fact that it's the end of the year, I thought it would be a good time to talk about goals.

I despise setting goals. Why? If I don't meet them, I'm a failure. But I still set them because -- well, everyone else is doing it, I feel like I have to. But I hate them. Really I do.

I set three big goals that I've met. Of course, I didn't call them goals. Shivers. That would be almost like … gasp … planning. And planning is only one step removed from plotting.

So, these three not-to-be-called goals have changed my life.

The first was my commitment (not goal) to finish one of the many books I've started. I set the goal in March of 2002 without a time frame, just the determination that I WOULD write The End on a book. In June of that year I did.

How? Just like that? Yep. Well, not really. I'm very competitive. I also tend to tell myself little lies to prevent me from finishing projects. So what I did was TOLD people I was writing a book. I had to finish it. If I didn't finish it, I would be a failure, a laughingstock, and that was simply unacceptable.

That said, book one is garbage. Superficial. 120,000 words of blah. But I finished it and met my first important goal.

My next goal (did I say that?) was to be published within two years. Okay, stop laughing. One, two, three -- you're still giggling. I was very naïve. I knew nothing about finding an agent or getting published. I thought the HARD part was finishing the damn book.

Well, five books later, I sold -- exactly two years from my commitment to finish a book. Not published, but sold. My book will be published (much different from selling, I've realized), two years from my sale date. So four years from commitment to publication -- I can live with that. I'm tickled. I know people who have waited much longer.

But the reason for my commitment to finish a book and become published was to meet my real goal -- and I'm proud to call it a goal -- to quit my day job and stay home with my kids. I knew I could never stay home with one income -- yes, lots of people do it, but I make more money than my hubby and so me quitting wasn't an option. Yet, with five kids we were in a Catch-22 -- I couldn't afford to work and I couldn't afford to quit.

Well, goal number three is soon to be accomplished. I'm giving notice to my employer on January 3. It was a tough decision because if my books -- which don't come out until 2006 -- bomb, I'll have to scramble to find a job and I doubt I'll be making the same money I do now.

But. And this is a big but.

My kids are worth the sacrifice. Money will be tight -- I'll have to spread my advance over a long period of time and budget very well -- but I'll have time with my kids. Time that I can never get back.

I have two girls who are older -- almost 11 and 8 -- and I feel I missed out on so much because I had to work throughout their early childhood. Poor planning and decisions early in our marriage -- and my belief that I could do everything (be a great mom, a wonderful wife, and a brilliant employee) -- couldn't sustain me forever. Eventually, after I had my third child, I wanted to stay home with him and discovered I couldn't. I didn't have a choice. I HAD to work. We had a mortgage and car payments and debt -- and getting out from under all our obligations would be difficult and take time. I felt trapped and hopeless -- and it was shortly after this revelation -- that I wasn't Superwoman -- that I committed myself to writing toward publication. I felt it was the one thing I could do successfully that would enable me to stay home with my children.

The time is now. I'm fortunate that I have an understanding spouse with a steady job AND medical benefits. I can quit and spend at least two years home with the kids.

And that goal is the sweetest one of all. Because we now have five children -- the youngest is six months -- and they'll finally be spending more waking hours during the week with me than their day care provider.

How can I possibly set another goal?

But it's the beginning of 2005 -- I feel like I have to say something, just to get those anal goal-minded people off my back (I love you Amy!!!) Nothing small. Those daily goals of X number of pages or weekly goals of X hours never keep me focused, but instead deter me.

I'll set a big goal. Or three.

First, meet all my commitments and deadlines. I have copy edits and revisions and another entire book to write. Write something new, revise some of my old stuff, but most important, write a good book -- or three.

Second, be good to my fellow writers; my soul sisters in motherhood -- moms who work in the house and outside of the house; and people in general. We sometimes forget the Golden Rule, the 11^th Commandment, to love others as we love ourselves. This commandment goes both ways -- we need to truly love ourselves in order to love other people, so I need to forgive myself for past failures so that I can be a better mother, a better wife, and a better friend to others from this day forward.

Most important, spend more time with my kids. Not quality time. Quantity time.

And that's a goal worth keeping for 2005 and beyond.

Allison

I am not one of these compulsive goal setters and maker of New Year's resolutions every year. I find resolutions usually lead to feelings of failure ;) I tend to be a go with the flow kinda girl, take it as it comes.

But I feel differently this year. Restless maybe. Like it's time for change. Not major overhaul of your life change. Just different. Just a deviation from the ordinary. I can be anal about change. Superficial change. For instance, when Eudora crashed into oblivion and no amount of reinstalling, redownloading, would make it right, I mourned for weeks at the idea of having to use a different email program. I hate when a familiar website undergoes a radical change and I spend hours trying to learn my way around again. That kind of change makes me crazy.

Changes in my life I embrace usually. I like a new challenge. I like new places, new things. And I'm currently feeling like the winds of change are starting to blow. It'll be interesting to see what the New Year brings. I've become comfortable (read lazy) in my current routine, and I'm ready for something to shake things up around here. {My agent calling me to say she sold me would work in a pinch (g)}

So while I will be setting no goals, making resolutions, making promises I can't keep, I will be looking out for change.

Holidays are over, thank goodness. Now it's time to get back to serious writing. Except, of course, that our family vacation is in two weeks. Woohooo! Mickey Mouse, here we come!

Anyway, I'm a goal person, much to Allison's chagrin. But I'm not ready to set my yearly writing goals yet...or monthly, for that matter. (Little slice of irony here...I'm SO not a planner. Even making airline reservations for a long-awaited vacation a month or two in advance gives me the shakes...who knows WHAT will be going on in my life next month? But yes, I need to set goals to function.)

Right now, all I have is one simple objective: to figure out how in the name of god to work my brand spanking new U2-edition iPod. I'll be the first to admit I'm a techno-moron. But being married to a techno-geek, I can get away with this. My husband will take care of anything remotely resembling electronics, computers, or other stuff with wires.

(Side note: my college roommate was visiting from southern Texas last night. We rented a movie. She was greatly amused that I didn't even know how to work the contraption that plays DVDs, music, VHS, and whatever else you want it to do...not sure it makes toast though. She said something to the effect of, "When did you get so helpless?" Marriage to a geek can do that to you. ;))

So. I've (husband's) downloaded the ENTIRE collection of U2 music...everything they've ever recorded and then some. Heaven. I'm set for all my listening-to-music life.

Now...to figure out how to work the darn thing. I could either break down and read the directions...or I could drop my pride and just ask my husband to show me what to do. What do YOU think I'll choose? (Hint: I'm big on convenience...not so big on pride. )