1. Learn to use my iPhone. I mean, the way people under thirty use it.
2. Order more clothes from Athleta. My SIL got me a giftcard there and whoa do they have clothes that will make me look totally gorgeous and super Athleta-ic. I figure just wearing their stuff gets me one step closer to, well, whatever it is I’m always trying to get one step closer to.
3. Learn the code to the fire safe which resides in my closet and houses all my superduper important, high-powered stay-at-home mom papers. The code is a jumble of nineteen letters and numbers that I am unable to memorize and will therefore do me absolutely no good in the event of a fire. Sure, the safe serves as a good storage place for this stuff in the meantime, but I’ve always liked the idea of watching my house burn to the ground with nothing left in the wake of flames but my family and our excellent, responsibly-filled fire safe. Neighbors will come out of their houses, survey the damage, and then, seeing me standing tall and strong next to my fire safe, will shake their heads and say, “That Jen. She is always so prepared.” At this point, to conclude the drama, I really need to be able to open the fire safe.
4. Stop cringing as more and more people I run into exclaim,
“Oh, you look just like your mother!” I am now forty. It was bound to happen. (No offense, mother.)
5. Exercise a little more vanity; i.e., see dermatologist about the increasing number of moles popping up on my face. Just because they’re flesh-colored doesn’t mean that people can’t see them, and imagine the calamity when these babies turn brown. (Never mind, don’t imagine that. Instead imagine me, standing alone in a burning field with nothing but my courage and my firesafe to raise me like a pheonix from the ashes.)
6. Get to 9 am church on time every week. Most weeks. Okay, 90–no, 80, alright, 75–percent of the time.
7. Get everywhere on time, 75 percent of the time. This will be a major improvement over my current record.
8. Hang out more with my girlfriends so I worry less about my kids.
9. I know that last one sounds selfish, but I swear it works.
10. Stop swearing. (See last sentence in #9.)