We’re a little over a month into the new year—normally the time I’d be all gung-ho about a few of my New Year’s resolutions…and on the verge of breaking a few others. I’m talking hypothetically, though, because I decided not to make any this year.
I mean, there are plenty of things I could—and probably should—resolve to do in 2015.
Sure, I should get organized. Or at least resolve to put away my shoes and hang up my coat when I get home. (My husband would enthusiastically agree with that.)
I should go to the gym more often.
I should worry less about what other people think.
I should—well, I could should myself till I turn blue in the face, but I’ve attempted to ban that word from my vocabulary.
There are many, many things on my to-do list, but to be perfectly honest, resolutions seem like another hundred things to add to that already never-ending list.
So screw ’em.
As I’ve come to realize in my (ahem) old age, the things that I hope to do will get done when I’m good and ready and probably over time, not with one dramatic resolution on one drunken New Year’s Eve. My life will go on without them in the meantime, and you know what? I’ve got a pretty damn good life.
The best gig I’ve got? It’s motherhood, and the second I saw my little guy’s face, I knew that I would try to be the best parent that I could possibly be for him. I don’t need a New Year’s resolution to remind me of that. I live it every day.
My kid is happy and healthy and smart, and that says something. I am not going to stress out that he doesn’t have the perfect bedtime routine or that I never lost that last four pounds of baby weight or that he’s not eating everything (er, anything) my husband and I eat at dinner. OK, fine, maybe I’ll stress out about it all a little, but it’s certainly not going to make me feel like I’m failing as a parent.
Because I’m not failing as a parent. And neither are you, no matter how rough some days might be.
Know that, and 2015 will be your best year yet.