"Goals" for 2015

I, like many others, love setting goals. Or rather, I love planning, and goal-setting is just another way to make plans. Forget the bass; really, it's all about the organization. "Give me organization, or give me ice cream to help me cope with the chaos!" That's the saying, right?

Anyhow. I, like many others, also have a hard time following through on my elaborate and extensive goal-setting. Usually because once I start thinking of the things I want to do/change/improve/learn, I think of all the things and the list becomes overwhelming, and then one or both of the children start crying and I just skip straight to the ice cream.

So I intensely admire the people who made and posted their New Year's goals, and I intensely want to be that put-together someday. But this year, I recognized that trying to add in more stuff to my life would be futile and frustrating. I am just barely keeping up with the rhythm we've got going, so rather than adding an extra step here or there, I am focusing on improving my dance skills right where I am. (Too much metaphor?) To that end, I made only two officials "goals" for 2015: 

1) Be more present with my kids. Originally, I wanted to spend at least twenty minutes of one-on-one time with each of my girls every day. But between all the getting sick and fluctuating nap schedules, this actually got kind of tricky. So instead of setting a specific timed goal, I just make sure that I connect with my kids every day. Some days, that means that all three of us are playing and laughing and being present together. Other days, that means coloring with Georgie while Rosie naps and snuggling with Rosie before bed. Some days are filled with lots of good moments, and on other days, we (read: I) struggle. I think this might be par for the parenting little kids course, so I am just going to keep at it. I also started keeping a journal solely about the girls, which is helping me focus on the moments of connection. I keep it in the main part of our apartment so anytime Georgie says something funny or brilliant or Rosie does something new, I can jot it down right then and there. It's both sweet and fun, and I definitely recommend this.

2) Make healthier choices. When it comes to setting health goals, there are many many ways I can improve my fitness: losing weight, eating right, drinking water, exercising, getting enough sleep, taking mental health breaks, etc. etc. etc. I tend to feel like I have to do it all or it's wasted effort, which does not motivate me. So this "goal" is just to start taking steps. Scaling back on the ice cream, for example. Noticing what, when, and how much I'm eating. Making it easier to keep track of how much water I drink. I'd love some dedicated exercise time, but I haven't figured out how to make that fit with our routine yet, so for now, I take the girls for walks when the weather is good. I am also trying to make time for myself everyday to preserve my mental and emotional health, and that is still a work in progress. Though blogging is a small step in that direction. (Too bad it comes at the cost of going to bed on time. Baby steps...?)

Easy peasy, right? Almost? Maybe? I guess the truly nice thing about these goals is that every day is a chance to achieve them. Every day I can start over and try again without keeping score. And sometimes, as a mom (and as a human being), that is my mantra. It has to be, really, because otherwise what I feel are my "failures" will haunt me forever. So this is what I tell myself: Every minute is an opportunity to be better, to make a better choice, to be a more patient person, to respond with love instead of frustration or anger. And my hope is that all those better minutes will start to add up to a better person. So I guess that my 2015 goals are as grandiose as I usually make them, after all. They just leave room for some human-ly error along the way. And, of course, for ice cream.

What I'm learning in school these days

The school year has gone better for me since Christmas break, at least for the most part. Yes, at least one day has started with a sobbing child and more than one day has ended with small children running in circles and screaming while I asked/begged/pleaded/threatened for them to stop (without effect, I might add). But overall, I haven't completely lost my patience, and that was my main goal. I'm getting better at handling the "problem" children and I have even been able to laugh at their silly antics once or twice.

I've been thinking a lot in the last week about what I'm learning from this experience, and while I still feel like I'm primarily learning to have patience and love small children, I'm started to learn something else too.

I have several good friends who are having babies in the next few months (all due in March, strangely enough) and I'm watching the babies that were born last year grow up. My best friend Natalie's daughter just celebrated her 2nd birthday and my nieces will be eight months old and six months old in February. I'm surrounded by babies and toddlers, but only in the last week has it dawned on me that one day, my own babies and toddlers will become children. And I will have no control over them.

I used to think it was a parent's responsibility to keep his or her child in line, especially in public places, or to deal with the behavioral problems that crop up at school. But I'm realizing that even the best parents who do everything right still have crazy, out-of-control kids: boys who just can't sit still, girls who just can't stop talking, children who for whatever reason, won't listen or follow directions. And when I'm a parent, there's not a whole lot I can do if slash when I have those kids.

Maybe being a teacher has overemphasized the helplessness of adults against children in my mind, but to some extent it's true. When they are as young as two years old, kids assert their own opinions, and as a parent, it will be my job to try to help them choose the right things without becoming the enemy. What if I am? What do I do then? I have no idea, and frankly, the prospect of having to parent a child who won't listen is terrifying. I have a feeling I won't be quite so pessimistic next week, but I am glad that the shock of realizing that babies grow up hit me now and not when my own babies are running in circles and telling me no.