I make them realistic and specific - things like "learn to swing dance" or "get a new car". Things I know I'll do anyway but it doesn't hurt to pronounce to the world you intend to get this thing done by Dec 31. And I really enjoy reading other people's resolutions and assessments of the previous year. But for some reason this year when I think of things I want to improve and strive for, only one word comes to mind - SURVIVAL. That's my goal for 2014. I want to survive it.
I didn't put this on my main Facebook profile because it sounds profoundly negative, and believe me when I say I don't mean it to be. I just think it's more realistic, when facing a year of juggling a newborn and a two-year-old, to drop any notion of "working out" or "focusing on myself" or "spending more time with friends" and instead think of every day when I can put two healthy children to bed and then get to bed myself as a personal triumph.
It's already like that, and I only have one! Each night when I go through B's bedtime ritual - dinner, tidy up house, tooth brushing, diaper change, pyjamas, sing bedtime song, tuck in - and close the door on his room, I feel like a frigging rock star. This is item #5,678 of Things I Never Understood Until I Was a Parent. That the act of getting through each day is indeed triumphant. Not in an "ugh, got through another one," kind of way (although it is sometimes), but in a, "hey, we made it!" kind of way.
I would love to think that in 2014 I will continue to: keep up my appearance, eat well and get exercise, keep up my social life, read good books and watch good TV/movies, keep up the house, make the business a priority - but I give myself permission to fail at any and all of these goals if that failure facilitates my primary directive, which is merely to SURVIVE.
And I think I can do that.