We’re back from Mammoth. Our last day there was sunny, brisk, and always bittersweet: I want to stay, but I want to get home.

I also have a Pavlovian response to the last day of the year: I automatically reflect on the past year and consider resolutions. It’s always a bittersweet holiday season–my mom died Dec. 26, 2001. Around this time in 2001, the three of us were back east, attending the funeral, dealing with the airline’s extremely tight–and sometimes stupid–security measures. Travis was very short then–seven years old–and his name was picked for a personal security check. He had to empty his backpack. Whoa–stuffed animals! Games! Books! Years later he said he was worried the airlines would want to keep him.

The fact that we’re vaulting into a new decade is just so strange to me. Wasn’t it just 2000? This past year was good enough, but did I accomplish enough? Probably not. I meant to finish my novel, Crazy for You, based on my noir short story that was published in April, but did I? Oy. And I hoped my agent would sell my memoir, but it was not to be–not yet, anyhoo.

I did sign up with WeightWatchers online, and lost almost 14 pounds (15 was my goal, oh woe).

I tried to be a better companion to Brian, a better mother to Travis, a better friend, a better teacher.

But why is it that at the end of the year, we always feel we fell short in some way? Or maybe it’s just me…

So next year–tomorrow!–I plan to become better organized, lose that last pound at least, accomplish my writing goals, become an even better friend, relative, wife, mother … all that.

What about you–any goals for 2011?

I wish for you everything you hope for in the New Year, and hope our paths cross real soon.