HAVE YOU GOT your New Year’s resolutions covered? Or do you even bother? They’re a bit of a melt, aren’t they? January can be a miserable enough time as it is without purposefully denying ourselves pleasure.

We can thank the ancient Babylonians for this 4,000-year-old tradition. Aiming for some betterment themselves, their celebration was initially a springtime festival deeply intertwined with religious beliefs and societal norms. Pledging to clear debts and return borrowed objects, for them the New Year symbolised rebirth of the land bringing with it the promise of crops and prosperity.

No pressure then.

It feels like 4,000 years since I went to the trouble mainly because we can do without putting ourselves under unnecessary pressure at this time of year. Especially when our resolutions tend to be of the deprivation kind – you know, dry January, no chocolate, restrictive diets and the like. Of course not forgetting the poor souls who feel compelled to sign up to their local gym as soon as the doors open after Christmas.

Why do we do it to ourselves?

In the run up to Christmas, I found myself tearing around the house, reacting to the stress and strain, bellowing out random instructions like, “New Year’s Resolution: Take something with you every time you leave a room and bring it upstairs!” and “New Year’s Resolution: Tidy up after yourselves!” Another one: “New Year’s Resolution: Flush the toilet when you’re done! Is anyone listening to me?”

Turns out I haven’t lost the knack for making resolutions after all, I’m just out of practice. But it got me thinking about my strong dislike towards the sentiment and how, when I did used to make them, I always failed miserably. I’m not sure that I aimed too high in the first place or was just completely ill equipped to carry them out but either way I always gave up a few weeks in.

For example, there was the year I was going to write a book and get it published. I had it all worked out. Fame and fortune were going to be mine for the taking and the enjoying. I dug out my typewriter, bought a realm of paper and sat down. I had neither storyline nor idea of where to even begin. Overwhelmed and fearing I had bitten off way more than I could chew, that dream fizzled out as quickly as it appeared. Did I mention I was about twelve and the aforementioned typewriter, a Petite 990, was one of my all-time favourite Christmas presents?

Then there was the time I was going to learn how to play the piano. We didn’t have a piano. 

But I managed to persuade someone in school to teach me “chopsticks” and I was thrilled with myself. Unfortunately everyone else had to put up with my rendition for the next twenty years.

I’ve since had a rethink and for 2026 I’ve decided I am going to give the resolution trend another attempt. Nothing too ambitious now, see the above reference to previous failures as grounds for keeping it doable. Plus I have zero interest in putting myself under added and unwanted pressure.

To quote a nauseating motivational maxim from the trenches of Parenting Young Children, “make it fun and it will get done”.

I will just leave this here as a reminder of the risks involved: According to PTSB ‘Reflecting Ireland’ the most popular New Year Resolutions in 2024 were, sorting our finances (a bit like our friends the Babylonians) and improving on fitness and health. Unfortunately the same study claimed most of us will lose our resolve within six weeks. Are you listening, aspirational gym goers?

What was I saying? Oh yes. Lookit, let’s not lose the actual run of ourselves and instead try to remember that slow and steady wins the race.

The world is in a state of chassis at the moment, so why don’t we take a moment and just breathe.

I realise that sounds overly simplistic and somewhat pedantic but what I personally want to implement next year is the habit of taking a big step back, literally or figuratively, whenever I find myself transforming into Katie Ka-Boom due to the ever-present pressures of life admin. Having a hissy fit and stressing everyone else out into the bargain only serves to generate a lot of negative energy.

This new practice, or small gift to myself if you will, has already been set in motion. Last quarter, as far back as October, each time I assisted another, I balanced it by contributing to my own self-worth.

Every. Time. A new non-negotiable.

It could be ten minutes spent looking out into the rain with my forehead pressed into the window but it is my six hundred seconds and no-one gets to judge or laugh at me if this is how I choose to catch my breath.

So far it’s going well, thank you for asking, albeit with the occasional nudge prompting a reminder for when I find myself slipping back into ways of old. I suppose you could say I am adopting a “putting my own oxygen mask on first” self-care module for 2026. I became aware of this homology as it relates to parenting more than a decade ago but never quite executed the metaphor. Until now.

To help keep me on the straight and narrow, I will be visiting my friendly GP before the years end and paying close attention to her advice in 2026.

Happy New Year to you all! Or Happy You’re Near as we say in our house! Today’s article was brought to you by the expectation named Hope, an intention of perseverance and a whole lot of good will.

Gwen Loughman is the gatekeeper of four boys, one husband and a watcher over two dogs.