If I’m honest with myself, I’ve been struggling with the EXACT same challenges for the last 10 years. (Uh…tell me about it. That was as hard for me to write as it was for you to read.) But sometimes, especially at the end of the year, unadulterated, absolutely brutal honesty is required. For example, this same brother once asked me, very sincerely: “say–how long have you been fat, again?” Brutal. Honest.

Now, before you judge him for such an insensitive comment, or me, for getting off topic, let me give you some background. My brother and I used to be health nuts. On the weekends, we used to ride our mountain bikes on trails or hike. He ran everyday and so did I, to the tune of  two miles per. He was talking about the phase that I went through where I would only eat food that came out of the ground – no sugar, no salt – no meat. I was the picture of health. Then, after a divorce and a knee surgery, I packed on 50 el-bees and never lost them. Five years later – still fat. So, he was really just asking me how long it had been since my surgery, or at least that is what I tell myself.

But I digress…

The point that I am making is this: I know that I’m overweight, that my diet is crap, that I get NO sleep and that I have a few habits (that shall remain nameless) that are very, very bad for my health. That understanding has done nothing to change my behavior. So, what’s the point of a year end review? Were I to do one, I suppose I would have to give myself a D+.

Brutal. Honest.

Nevertheless, I believe that there is value in the process. One of my favorite bloggers, Chris Guillebeau agrees. This week, he writes  about performing your own annual review. I would highly recommend that you follow the preceding link and read his post. Here’s a guy who has managed to live exactly the way that he wants to and to share what he’s learned with others.

Essentially, Chris breaks down the review process into three steps:

Step 1: Review the Previous Year
Step 2: Outline Goals and Overall Focus for Next Year
Step 3: Make Decisions in Support of the Goals and Focus

I’d love to know if you intend to complete your annual review process. If so, drop in from time to time and let us know how you’re getting along.

He was tired, cold and very hungry.

Tired because he’s a firefighter recruit who endures grueling physical training sessions. Cold because the homeowner’s association has decided to replace our floor-to-ceiling windows in the great room in the middle of winter. Hungry because I didn’t have time to shop this week. Somebody had on some serious grumpy pants.

Before I could get settled, the phone rang. It was my brother. We needed to discuss his marketing plan. As I stepped into the bedroom to take the call, I heard the commotion in the great room. Max, the Mischievous, had just stepped on my husband’s very…last…nerve. Dear Husband (DH) started speaking loudly, Max started barking. Then I heard the crage door open. Then, the inevitable.

“Oh, Max!” Max had peed in his crate. DH was not happy. He stomped into the bedroom where I was taking my call, gathered up a few things, loudly closed the baby gate that we used to keep Max out, or in, depending on our mood, and then marched back into the great room. After he had cleaned up Max’s mess, the crage door slammed shut. That was it for Mr. Max.

Once I finished my phone call, Max was sequestered in the bedroom in the crage we keep there next to the bed. Fast forward one hour. Our friends are over. Max doesn’t make a peep. We’re in the bedroom measuring closet doors. Max is an angel. No barking. No whining. So, just as our guests are preparing to leave, I suggest that we let Max say goodbye. DH gives me the evil eye.

We open the gate and Max walks out, stretches and then greets each of our guests.

“Oh, he’s so good!” they exclaim as Max sits patiently and allows himself to be petted. Then, he shows them his new trick. He knows how to “shake a paw.” How charming. Max is magnificent again. He’s so good. I massage his back (he likes that) and scratch his chest. He licks my ears. He’s so good.

“I wore him out today,” DH says. This is information I didn’t have before. I learn that Max and DH had gone to the park today, which is why Max is too tired to bark, whine or steal socks from the dirty clothes. What a difference in his behavior. The dog whisperer had it right: exercise, discipline, affection. I suppose I’ll need to get a doggie treadmill. The alternative is to get up early in the morning and let Max run, then take him for a walk at night. This thought does not appeal to me.

But this is what Max needs. Poor Max. We get disappointed with him for misbehaving, but it’s clear that he needs more exercise. It seems that my “poor Max” this week could be a “better me.” Through giving Max exactly what he needs, I’d be getting what I need to.

Huh.