When Primo was but a wee one, he used to call resolutions "revolutions." I much prefer to think of them that way; makes these commitments sounds a helluva lot more powerful, dangerous even.
I have a few revolutions underway this year but the main one is . . .
Work on patience
I have many strengths as a mother and as a person but patience is not among them. It's hard to be patient when you're ambitious, when a churning yearning is part of your very constitution. The propulsive forward momentum is not a bad thing -- it's why I get shit done -- but I'm finding it needs to be tempered. As I get older, I find more and more that patience is a critical ingredient in my recipe for happiness and success, especially in parenting. There is very little instant gratification in parenting. You can't tell, often for years, if some great, carefully-thought-out approach of yours is working. You might get little glimpses of hope from time to time, moments that will make you think, "Ah ha! My master plan of creating a happy, healthy, productive member roy society is working!" but chances are, you'll also have as many glimpses of doom, which lead you to think, "Oh no! It's all going to shit! What cleared me for parenting duty?"
The incubation period, when you're trying to raise a good person, is long and anxiety-provoking. But there's no way around it. And I think I'd be a good deal more pleasant and productive if I just accepted that. So, bam. Working on patience.
Nicole is a parenting writer who contributes essays and articles for magazines like Parenting, Parents, American Baby and Babble. She lives in Brooklyn with three children, one husband and a morbidly obese goldfish.