Over the years, I have learned to avoid New Year's resolutions. I know myself well enough to realize that creating a list of resolves, much less telling anyone about them, is little more than a written guarantee that exactly none of them will see the light of day. As self-imposed, arbitrary deadlines slip by, I lower my expectations little by little until "read Finnegan's Wake" becomes "read anything more substantial than a fortune cookie" and "lose 20 pounds" devolves to "buy new Spanx."
It's not that I don't have goals. I'm always working towards something, but I like to keep the details to myself. Or, to be more accurate, I like to keep the details from myself. I'm certainly no anarchist, but I'm just rebellious enough to buck my own system. This is why my home school schedule is not a detailed chart of days, times and subjects, but one sentence: "Be done by lunch." It works. For now.
This year, I've decided to jump on the bandwagon. I made a resolution to make some resolutions. But, instead of instantly feeling crushed by my own unrealistic expectations, I'm ignoring the usual guidelines for making goals that are "specific, achievable, and measurable." I'm going for vague. And just maybe I'll vaguely accomplish them.
And be done by lunch. Someday.