I can't begin to tell you the number of times I have said: "I can't wait for 2018 to be over."
I started the year with a serious case of carbon monoxide poisoning as a result of washing a hog barn.
Then, I spent my summer in treatment for cervical cancer. This fall, my husband and I decided it was time to exit hog production before we reached red ink. We finally made it to the end of November, when our new beagle pup was accidentally run over.
I became focused on the bad. I had cued the woe-is-me soundtrack and was playing the world's tiniest violin for a pity party for one. I finally looked at myself in the mirror and shouted:
"JENNIFER LEIGH GET A GRIP!"
I talk to myself a lot, and usually out loud. Using my middle name means I'm serious -- just as Mom used to do when I was growing up.
So what if 2018 tried to take me out -- twice?
We may not be raising hogs anymore, but we aren't quitters. We decided when it was time to exit. And, that little beagle pup -- he's now limping around our house after being pinned back together. Yes, we are now "those" pet owners, but unconditional love feels right, even if the vet bill was painful.
When my family gets cynical or starts complaining, I make them play the "name three good things" game. They each have to name three good things currently in their life. The things can be as simple as the sun is shining or as deep as the fact that we can afford food for the table.
So, in that same vein, I will not be setting unrealistic resolutions this year. I prefer "attainable" ones, like vowing to eat dessert at least once a day.
And I say: BRING ON 2019! I know there will be issues to face, but that's called life -- the good, the bad and the ugly. I can handle it because I'm still here living it!
Editor's Note: Jennifer (Jent) Campbell signs her Santa letters: Love, an Indiana farm wife and a farmer. She writes a blog called Farm Wife Feeds (farmwifefeeds.com). Follow her on Twitter (@plowwife) and on the podcast (@girlstalkag).
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