I Hereby Resolve. . .

Do you swear to swear off New Year’s promises that you won’t, can’t or shouldn’t keep? If you’ve ever hauled your butt out of bed for a wailing infant, you know kids can be great motivators.

I re-learned this recently — the hard way — while chauffeuring my 1-year-old home from daycare. When the driver of a slow and sloppy pick-up truck lurched in front of me and slammed on his brakes, I cursed, as any safety-conscious mother might.

And what I called the gentleman was not nice, I grant you that. But neither was the sound of my toddler’s teeny tiny voice echoing the unclean sentiment from our back seat. He repeated the phrase all the way home, as if it were the prettiest string of letters ever to alight on his eardrums. He shouted it. He whispered it. He sang it. And then he greeted his daddy with it at the door.

It turns out there’s nothing like a filth-spewing cherub to incite, um, personal growth: I resolved to stop swearing in front of my children.

But I knew it wouldn’t be easy. Because even as our kids inspire us toward self-betterment, they also keep us from it, leaping into our paths like slow-moving, stubborn pick-up trucks. They’re adorable little cogs in the works, sucking up money, time and energy faster than they can drain a juice box at a post-game pizza party. Most moms will tell you they never had so many goals—and so little shot at actually accomplishing them — as they have since becoming parents.

And never is that paradox more pronounced than at New Year’s.

Made to Be Broken?

Resolutions promise a fresh start, a chance to finally fix the faults we’ve never been able to get our grocery-saddled and laundry-laden arms around. And even if it’s all a dirty little lie, we relish the fantasy of a life that’s neater, happier, healthier … and guilt-free. A life that looks more like we pictured it would, with everything in its proper place, ample time for spousal romance and abs that don’t flop over our waistbands as we bend down to kiss our perfectly behaved children goodnight.

Ask any number of moms to share their New Year’s resolutions and a profound pattern emerges. Where once we built goals around careers, personal advancement and even material goods, we now hang them on our roles as mothers.

As role models. And sadly, as housekeepers. “My resolutions used to be more professional — even selfish — like move to New York and become a bigwig, or earn enough money to buy a cool new car, or fit into a size 8,” says Aletia Yee, a 35-year-old mother of two from Lawrence, Kansas. “Now they’re geared towards how I can make life better for my children: be more patient, keep the house cleaner, spend quality time with the kids and cook healthier dinners.”

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Amy Platt of Long Island, New York, makes the same resolution every year: get more organized. “My house is the House of Piles,” confesses Platt. “There are piles everywhere: old mail, old magazines. There’s a pile of picture frames waiting for pictures I still need to develop. I even have a pile of work on my husband’s nightstand. Every time I need some space, I just move the piles.”

My friend Michele Gilbert lost the privilege of picking and choosing her own resolutions when she developed diabetes during her second pregnancy.

“I love sweets, but I also want to live to see my kids grow up,” says the 39-year-old mother of two from Niwot, Colorado. “So now my resolutions are always about taking better care of myself, working out more. Last year it was to stop eating Starbucks Java Chip ice cream — something a diabetic just should not do!”

So did she actually accomplish this test of willpower? Let’s just say that while Michele remains healthy, she has a half-eaten carton of the stuff in her freezer. Because, of all the useful tools we life-juggling moms keep within arm’s reach at all time (tissues, sunscreen, protein bars, Purell), willpower doesn’t tend to be one of them.

For two years, Stella Smyth, 37, has been resolving to spruce up her look: less frumpy, more fabulous.

“I used to dress to impress. Now I dress strictly for function and comfort—ugly, that is,” says the Las Vegas mom. If she hasn’t yet met her goal, at least she’s found a way to avoid the public shame of resolution dissolution: “I never say my resolutions out loud!”

There are certain annual rituals most moms cherish: Fourth of July fireworks, back-to-school shopping, Halloween pumpkin carving. But many of us feel about New Year’s the way single folks feel about Valentine’s Day: Why assign a special date just to make us feel bad about ourselves when we’re quite capable of feeling that way all year long?

“My philosophy is that if there’s something you want to change about your lifestyle, habits or behavior, you will be more successful if you don’t wait until the new year,” says Jill McNary, a vexingly self-disciplined mom from San Diego. “That’s an excuse for putting off something that for some reason you aren’t willing to do at the moment. You’re setting yourself up for failure.”

During a four-year period, McNary gave up one vice each year — starting with booze. It began when her Navy-pilot boyfriend (now her husband) was stationed overseas for a year on a tiny island where no alcohol was available. She decided that if he had to give up drinking then — what the heck? — she would, too.

“The following year I thought about what else I could give up that wasn’t necessarily bad for you but wasn’t particularly good for you either,” she says. “So I gave up all sweets — no dessert, no candy. After that it was chips and nuts, and finally cheese. Cheese was the hardest because it’s in everything. We ate a
lot of Chinese food that year.”

She’s back to consuming all those things now, in moderation, of course. But the experience changed her life.

“I felt so proud for accomplishing my goal. And powerful, too!” says McNary. “I know I have it in me to direct my mind and spirit in whatever direction I choose. Now I go to church more consistently, I spend more time reading to my children, I make sure we have dinner as a family every evening ... ”

Jeez. And all I’m hoping to do is diffuse my internal F-bomb so that it doesn’t explode within earshot of my little pitchers.

Resolve for the Rest of Us

For those without McNary’s resolve, there’s help. The creators of MyGoals.com say the hardest part of achieving any objective is making a plan.

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“If you break down the goal into problems or obstacles, andtackle them one at a time, you can do it,” insists co-founder and goal-oriented dad Anthony Helmstetter of Scottsdale, Arizona. His website lets you create custom “goal plans” and then sends out reminder e-mails to keep you on track.

In addition to financial and health goals, the site offers a Family & Relationship category with suggested goals for parents of toddlers (“To wean my child off his pacifier”), parents of teens (“To spend more time with my son”) and working parents (“To work from home twice a week”). There are even pre-fab plans for potty training, planning a yard sale and taking a family trip to Disney World. All the planning in the world, though, won’t help you meet a goal that doesn’t want to be met. Take it from Amy Knapp of Kalamazoo, Michigan. The entrepreneurial mom and author of “Amy Knapp’s Family Organizer” recently discovered that the best goals have one simple thing in common: They are doable. “I decided to tackle the closet by the garage. You know, that nightmare spot? Every house has one,” she says. “I bought shoe racks. I installed hooks for every member of the family to hang their bags. I installed a rod with hangers for jackets. It was beautiful! It could have been in a magazine.”

But only if the photographer came, like, really quick.

“A week later, it looked horrible,” she confesses. “My kids weren’t going to use hangers no matter how much I wanted them to.”

Resolutions are supposed to make life better, she points out. And if chasing a dream is compromising your quality of life, then the cart’s leading the horse. And the poor horse is feeling dreadfully guilty about the whole thing.

“This isn’t a game of perfect,” Knapp reminds us, mercifully. “It’s a game of good enough.”

In some cases, it may even be a game of don’t bother.

“I gave up on making resolutions after my son was born,” says Ann Ravelo of Oahu, Hawaii. “They just don’t work for me. There is too much stress.”

The upshot: Resolving to not make resolutions can be its own source of pride. “Hey!” says Ravelo, “I didn’t break that one!”

As for me, I’m still hoping to clean up my language. But there’s something more important I want to teach my kids this year, something they’ll need to know when they become parents: Despite what any dictionary tells them, guilt is a four-letter word.

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