New year new me?

Well, here we are again with a whole new year ahead of us. From this vantage point, 2013 is looking all bright and shiny and full of Potential with a capital P.
A new year is kind of like that new technology device that you know can do really cool things, but you aren’t quite sure how to turn it on yet. Sort of like the Wii we got at our house two years ago.
If I could just figure out the controls, I know this year could be the best year yet.
A new year is my best shot at a do-over. Didn’t exercise enough in 2012? Ate too many chocolate cookies after 8 p.m.? Spent too much time fretting over college financial planning? Didn’t check homework every single night? All that could change in 2013.
A new year could mean a new me. Or a slightly revised me. Kind of like when you start a new school and you start going by a new name. Maybe I need a new name. Instead of Jennifer, I could transition to “Jenny” or the more snappy “Jen.” See how easy it is?
I could start by cleaning out the upstairs closet and that junk drawer in the kitchen. While I am at it, I could even clean out the downstairs closet — the one that looks like a garage sale waiting to happen. Heck, I could actually have a real garage sale.
I could transition from being an indifferent cook to the kind that actually plans dinners and varies nightly vegetable offerings beyond frozen peas, baby carrots and those pre-made salad packages. Better yet, one of our girls could suddenly express great interest in becoming a chef and take over all of the weekly meal planning and cooking. A mom can dream.
I could organize our family photos. I know some good stuff happened in 2003, but if I don’t put some pictures in an album and slap some stickers on a few pages, our descendants will wonder if the Napa Huffmans fell off the planet that year. Note to descendants: I kind of had my hands full with three kids under the age of 8 that year.
I could pick up a new hobby. A group called CirqueFly Aerial Acrobatics is offering a “kick-butt sculpting and toning workout” class taught by someone named “Cypher Zero.” Hey, I’m a mom of three teenagers. Maybe I could hire Cypher Zero to come kick some butt at my house.
I could write columns way better than this one. I could turn into such an amazing writer that some editor somewhere would start reading my columns and become convinced that I should write a book about how I “surrendered to motherhood” and look where it got me.
I could do a lot of things. That’s what I love best about the new year. The possibilities are endless.