A Woman of Action vs. A Woman of Stuff

It's been a big year for our little family.

We bought a house.  We bought stuff to fill the house.  We bought convenient, easy stuff to fill our bellies while we were busy moving the things we had bought for the house around the house. *head spins, stomach churns*

Long story short, this has left us fat, and with lots of bills.

We had guests in town for Thanksgiving, and in honor of their pending arrival we decided to take the plunge and finally buy one more mattress set, which would bring us up to such a total that we would have a bed in each bedroom, plus a futon downstairs, making lots of comfy space for our guests, current and future, to sleep.  (or sex it up.  but that's just a joke.  do not, under any circumstances, come to our house just to sex it up. please)  This is a very satisfying new development, and a pleasant coming-of-age for two formerly empty and nearly-empty bedrooms upstairs. 

Now, for the first time in my short-tenure as a homeowner, I can look around and be confident in the knowledge that we DO NOT NEED ANYTHING.  Sure, there may be a few wants here and there... but nothing is needed in the way that I needed that Expedit from Ikea to make the living room complete, or how we needed Shelly's loveseat to keep the recliners company in the study.  Those needs are even silly, as I often like to reflect upon Maslow's Heirarchy of Needs to remind myself that I'm really pretty lucky to be so content and sated that I find myself on the top of the pyramid, judging ('cuz it says morality, right?) the folks struggling down below.  There are televisions, networks, places to sit, tools with which to cook (and the food to be cooked as well)... all in all, relative comforts, and mostly well-utilized ones, abound.

So now that we're fully furnished with stuff, I have great great intentions of becoming a
WOMAN OF ACTION! 

What, you ask, is a woman of action?  Well. (as I pour myself a glass of wine, in order to tonight be a woman of slightly-less coordinated actions) 

I wanna DO stuff.  Remember that post where I was talking about how much sh*t I got done while the internet was inaccessible? 

Oh, Dr. Seuss... you had it SO right, man!  THE THINGS YOU CAN DO!  Here I am waiting for bread I baked (action!!) to cool, while typing my blog  (action!).  One of the lesser things in life indeed, but it's better than trolling Facebook, right?  Plus it's like I'm making my whole mental plan tangible... putting it out there for folks to, hopefully, hold me somewhat accountable to my intentions.  (ACTION!!!)

 Here's my list. 

1.  Lose weight.  Every little bit counts but 10-15 pounds would be ideal, and 25 lbs would be bitchin'
2.  Continue organizing the house - especially the craft room
3.  START SEWING!  (dependent on #2)
4. Potty train E-Unit
5.  De-pacify the E-Unit... (another blog, another time)
6.  Paint guest/office room and decorate in "City" theme as planned
7.  Monetize blog in slightly-less hardcore manner as the fabulous FlutieMcD (of course, only after committing to posting at least 3x a week and having super-awesome content) and revel in the idea of being able to fancy myself a "writer" - if even *just* (hahaha) a "Mommy Blogger"
8.  Get myself, the handsome husband, and my no-longer-flying-free 2+ year old out of the country for a vacation fit to remember forevah.  Germany/France?  Perhaps.  Club Med in el Caribe?  Maybe.  Just plain Florida with family?  Even that'd do.  Most ideal?  Western Ireland by car for 4 days, on the way to India.  (And then a train trip to visit friends and the ruins at Hampi while in India.  Oh Lordy, I can dream.)
9.  Um... have more babies?  Yeah, somewhere in there, that'd be pretty cool.  So yeah, have more babies.
10.  Raise aforementioned babies to be awesome little buggers like E-Unit

That's the problem with becoming a Woman of Action -  seem's that there's inherently some tangible, shoppable portion of the dream.  Me wanting to stop focusing on the material and get the proverbial shit done somehow translates to me wanting to TRAVEL.  Me wanting more children means there's definitely a deadline to those much-imagined travels.   I imagine my fitter, more-organized self unloading jauntily off of a plane with the hubba and toddler in tow, toward adventures and relaxation in new surrounds.  Super-skinny self?  Oh, that foxy BITCH!  She would be unloading in Lima, Peru, holding the hubba's hand and breathlessly carrying the child in a backpack up the Inca trail, into the clouds of Macchu Pichu...

Shit.  There is one more thing I need.