New Year, New You? Probably Not.

I will take this moment to wish all of you a Happy and Healthy New Year, because that is what you do at the beginning of the new year, right? But does that mean that I don't care if you're happy and healthy in July? I mean I guess the January wish is supposed to carry through all year long. I'm just saying, just because it's the dawn of the new year doesn't mean anything has changed. 

I want my friends and family to always be healthy and happy.

I'm not a resolution person, mostly for this reason. The same reason why I don't believe in diets or any other kind of "Change your life overnight!" thing. It's crap. 

It is a new year, yes, technically, it is a new beginning. But we're all the same people we were two days ago. Nothing is going to change just because we wish it will. 

I am an optimistic person by nature, I don't want anyone to think I'm being negative here. I guess I'm just being realistic. Yes, I also thought, "Goodbye 2016! You sucked. I'm not sad to see you go. 2017 will be so much better!"

Then today, on January 2nd, I woke up with a crippling headache. I'm not surprised by this, I have been headache prone my entire life. Waking up with a headache is the worst. And mostly my first thought is always, "Shit, what did I drink last night??"

Truthfully, I did have a few beers yesterday and I had a headache all afternoon because once in a while a very hoppy beer will hit me the wrong way (yet, I still drink them, because who doesn't like a little Russian roulette to liven up their life?). 

I was headache free when I went to bed last night and then woke up with a beastly one. It's a sinus headache, it's pretty much under control now. There are still hoof beats in the background, but I'm not letting it ruin my day.

My point is—is 2017 off to a kick ass start? No. I spent all day yesterday exhausted because I only slept 5 hours the night before. Today, I have an awful headache. Does that mean my entire year is shot?

Well, let's hope not. But I fear a lot of my friends would think exactly that. At least judging by their ever hopeful facebook posts. 

It's a new year and it's a clean slate, but I'm still the same person. I'm still going to get headaches and not make it to the gym as much as I should. I'm still going to procrastinate. I'm still going to drink hoppy beers and then curse myself for it. 

But I'm also going to remember to enjoy the little things. I'm going to make time to see friends. I'm going to work out, not because I should but because I feel better when I do. I'm going to cook more with my husband because I love him and I love eating (best of both worlds). I'm going to continue setting goals for myself. 

But when I don't meet them I'm not going to beat myself up. I'm going to try harder.

It's not a new me, it's the same me. 

So, my friends, I wish you more good days than bad days. I hope you laugh more than you cry. I hope you discover what makes you happy and you hold onto it. I hope you remember that one day does not define you.

I hope in this new year that you are still the same you.

A Happy and Healthy everything to everyone! 

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A Very McKay St. Patrick's Day

Today happens to be St. Patrick's Day. The actual holiday. I'm not sure about your area, but in our neck of the woods towns start with the annual parades in the beginning of March.

To me it feels like a season, much like the Christmas season. March hits, the weather becomes even more unpredictable than normal here in the northeast, and spring is just around the corner. You can have snow one day and mild enough temperature to open windows the next. 

As I may have mentioned in the past, I am not a cold weather bear. I used to think summer was my favorite time of year, but more and more I think it might be this time of year. We start to shake out of the deep freeze, the daylight lingers a little later everyday, and when you step outside you can smell the weather beginning to change.

I don't mind the rain and the slush when I start to see the buds sprouting on the trees. Watch out now, I almost got poetic!

(Mr. McKay just informed me that we might get snow Sunday night and suddenly I have lost all of my romanticism about this time of year.)

Enough about the weather! I want to tell you why I love St. Patrick's Day. Yes, technically it's a religious holiday, it shouldn't really be a drunken bender or an excuse to dye things green.

To me, it's the time every year that we get to gather our friends and eat and talk (and yes, even drink) without any other agenda. Christmas is busy and there is the stress of gifts. New Year's is a big giant thing that everyone needs to celebrate. Valentine's Day you're stressed about having a date—or not having a date. Thanksgiving there needs to be turkey, and most likely it's celebrated with family. 

St. Patrick's Day is no stress. You don't have to feel guilty about not calling your mom, or not picking out the perfect gift. You should unearth the one green shirt you own and come to our house hungry.

We had our first St. Patrick's day party the year we moved in. We had it on whatever day St. Patrick's Day fell on. It was a Wednesday. We invited too many people over to our too small house and we all shoved in here and played music and talked too loud and drank too much and had a great time.

We did that for a few years and then we started getting jobs we couldn't go to with hangovers. So we moved it to a Saturday in March. Since then we have gotten our menu and set-up down to a science. We still invite too many people and we never have enough chairs, but no one seems to care.

We have the best friends in the world, they always come with dessert and whiskey in tow. Mr. McKay makes corned beef. We have sandwiches and drink beer until the wee hours of the morning.

I thought I was crazy to admit it before, but secretly my favorite part of this time is making party preparations with my husband. We started throwing this party in our much leaner days. We had no business throwing a party, we were trying to buy party food when we couldn't even pay our electric bill. But somehow we always pulled it off. 

It's become almost something of a game. Mr. McKay makes at least five corned beefs. Do you know the kind of manipulations we go through to get five corned beefs? We have multiple shopper discount cards to multiple food stores and we feel a little bit like we're breaking the law. 

We went on our annual shopping trip last night armed with coupons and discount cards from my mother in law. I held the flyer in my lap that clearly stated "limit 1 per family" for this particular corned beef sale.

We made our plan before entering. "Let's walk in separately. I'll meet you back by the meat, then we'll check out separately. Meet me back here," Mr. McKay instructed.

I nodded in agreement. I don't think food stores stick to their limits so ardently, but why tempt fate?

Give us the sale and no one gets hurt.

"This must be what robbers feel like!" he added, giving me a grin.

"Are you getting a rush over swindling the corned beef sale?"

"I am a little bit. Are you?" He looks at me expectantly.

"Not really, but you're cute."

We went to two stores and got four corned beefs for a fraction of the regular price. Mr. McKay kept calling it "Our Corned Beefery Caper". I have no idea why he was calling it that but it cracked me up every time.

On the way home we stopped for ice cream, which we ate for dinner because we were already breaking all the rules, why not just go all out?

Today I'm cleaning bathrooms, which isn't all that fun. Tomorrow we'll clear the clutter and dust. And then Saturday morning we'll start moving the furniture so we can fit the maximum amount of people in our little home.

Every year our friends show up with more children. And then leave a little earlier. A sign of the times. We're all getting older—but we still have a few holdouts that don't mind polishing off the bottle of whiskey with me at 2am. I hope we still have this party every year, even when we're old and gray. By then we'll have to make it a lunch. Maybe a brunch. We could make corned beef hash! (I can still drink whiskey, right?)

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The Man Who Wouldn't Spank and His Christmas Elf

I've had off from the day job this week so Mr. McKay and I have gotten to spend a lot of time together. It's been great. I've enjoyed every minute of it.

I'm sure he has too. Although, don't ask him while I am in the middle of blaring Christmas music and decking the halls. He quietly sticks his ear buds in and goes back to hunching over his laptop while I belt out Christmas carols and take pictures of the cats getting into the Christmas decorations.

Just an average day in our house.

Mr. McKay is a self-proclaimed Grinch. Although, I will let you in on a secret. I don't think he is very grinch-y at all. 

His reasons are:

He hates Christmas music (to be honest, I don't blame him on this, and he is pretty picky about his music selections in general).

He hates when stores put Christmas stuff out too early.

He hates the commercialization of the holiday.

He doesn't want anything for Christmas.

I can counter all of these reasons (he doesn't listen to me though). The actual Grinch wanted ALL of the presents. He robbed Who-ville of all of their Christmas things, so not wanting gifts actually does not make you a grinch (it makes it annoying for your wife who is still trying to find something to buy you, but it doesn't make you a grinch).

Getting annoyed about the commercialization of the holiday? I think that makes you even more the opposite of a grinch. Yes, Christmas decorations popping up in stores around the end of August kind of ruins the season for me too. It shouldn't be forced upon us too early, that's just overkill.

Before we were married, one of the first Christmases we spent together, we were literally scraping together change from the cup holders in the car to buy presents for our families. We went to a discount store the week before Christmas and they had a Toys for Tots donation box. It was Mr. McKay's idea to buy two toys to put in the box, even though we were already on a limited budget and had numerous gifts to buy. We both picked out a toy and dropped them in the box on our way out.

That's not very grinch-like.

One year we were so short on cash and we were both working multiple jobs, I declared I wasn't putting up a tree. I was too tired and my heart wasn't in it. I came home one day to our artificial tree standing in the living room. He put it up himself and stacked the decorations next to it, because that's my favorite part. Would a grinch do that?

Maybe I am just ruining his street cred. He's built up a reputation of being a Holidays hating, grinchy, Scrooge. And he does get visibly annoyed anytime I argue that he isn't.

To me he isn't any of those things. He's loving and generous and kind. He's open minded and non-judgmental. When I presented him with my kinky side he rose to the challenge and experimented with me. There's been plenty of Christmases and birthdays now where he has gifted me with spanking implements and sex toys. 

From a man who didn't want to spank me because he was afraid of hurting me, to someone who doesn't need an implement in his hand to make me sore for hours (as I write this I have a huge smile on my face).

He'll spend half his day driving to different stores in congested holiday shopper craziness to find the perfect Christmas socks to put in my stocking. And he'll spend half his night researching spanking, among other things, to indulge his crazy wife.

He can call himself a grinch if he wants to. I'll try not to let everyone I meet know how untrue that is. I'm excited to spend the rest of my Chistmases with him.

He's taking me out tonight to see Elf at a local movie theater. We'll smuggle in Christmas cookies in my purse. He'll tell you he is in it for the cookies. But when he takes the long way home so we can look at Christmas lights I'll pretend not to notice that he forgot to be a grinch, just for a little bit.

He might be a grump, but he isn't a grinch. And he's all mine.

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