A Two Year Old’s List of New Year’s Resolutions That Are Totally Rational


NewYearNewYou! Or really, #NewYearNewMe. Because everything is about me. And why wouldn’t it be? I am 35 pounds of pants-pooping awesomeness. Man am I excited about this year. Adios, last year! The year I ate too many cookies even though my mom told me to stop eating cookies but I still snuck cookies and begged Grandma for more cookies and then vomited cookies… That day will haunt me forever. I swore off cookies for a solid 14 hours after that.

Anyway, last year is in the past and it’s time to move forward. Set goals. Reach for my dreams. So what am I hoping to accomplish this year? The year I turn 3? Well, put your fun pants on (mine are Paw Patrol, obvs) and let’s get this party started.

1. Poop on the potty. And not just my potty. But ALL THE POTTIES EVERYWHERE IN THE WORLD. Why? Because my mom is so flipping obsessed with me getting this done that she lets me have candy EVERY TIME. She started with like one M & M but now I sense that’s she overcome with a subtle (actually not subtle at all) mix of exhaustion and desperation. So now she’ll throw any sugary treat my way as long as I fight her a little. Got to wear her down, you know? I’m hip to her game. And I bet if I poop on Grandma’s potty—HOLY CANNOLI can you imagine what treat I’ll get?! So yeah, that’s a big one for this year.

2. Maintain my anti-vegetable stance. I think I heard my mom telling my dad that she’s going to try “new recipes” that are “kid-friendly” to get me to “try things.” So silly that lady is. I plan on fighting all new foods that I don’t recognize, especially if they touch other foods on my plate, until she gives up and makes me mac & cheese every single day for every single meal until I ‘m a big grownup and leave for college.

3. Up my hide-the-gross dinner foods game (see #2). The dog is getting tired of peas and carrots and doesn’t seem as cooperative as she used to be. I know she’s waiting for me to toss her a hot dog, but sorry old gal. Those bites are gold and all for me. So I gotta come up with some new strategies. I’ve tried hiding the green stuff under my plate, but Mom finds it and then says “no dessert” which is like a spear to my soul. I might try my pockets next. Pretty sure I can stuff quite a few broccoli spears in there…

4. Zip my own coat. But only on days when I want to zip my own coat. Like Monday mornings when Mom says words like “We are late!” I am going to stand there, in defiance, failing to properly line up the two zipper parts, refusing to let her help me. Shoes too. And no they will NOT be on the wrong feet and if they are I will NOT admit it and will commit to running around with uncomfortable shoes all day. This year will be MY year!

5. Color the world. I am soooooo over paper. Why not make the world more beautiful? This year will be full of beautiful artwork created by me—on the walls, carpet, mommy’s car, and my new Easter dress. This is the year that I will find the Sharpies that she hides up high, and she will see what masterpieces I can make. A budding artist I am, and I cannot wait to share my talents with the world.

6. Have temper tantrums in new places. Target? Been there, done that, got the t-shirt. I need to expand my horizons. I feel like there are so many more places in the world I need to see (and lose my you-know-what in). I think I saw “DMV” on Mom’s calendar the other day. Oooooh that sounds like a fun place to throw myself on the ground and turn into an eel so Mom can’t pick me up. Especially because I hear that there’s never a wait there and everyone is in a super good mood.

7. Try new things. Like a new cup or bowl at breakfast. But only if it’s not clean and Mom has already poured my cereal into my regular bowl that I’ve used every day for two years. Because you know what? It’s time to spread my wings and see if my Cheerios actually do taste different in an orange bowl. No, not that one. The OTHER orange bowl. Ugh, forget it. I actually don’t want an orange bowl. This cereal is dead to me now. Why do you hate me?

8. Try a new phase. I think biting sounds good. There are just not enough teeth marks in stuff around here. Like this crayon. And my sister’s arm. I mean why else would God give me all these teeth? He obviously wants me to try them out on stuff other than those horrible peas I have to mash up and hide at dinner.

9. Wake up more during the night. I heard Mom and Dad say the other day that I’m finally “sleeping through the night.” I don’t know what that means, but it sounds BORING. I feel like I miss so much excitement at night, so I vow to wake up A LOT more throughout the night and see what Mom and Dad are up to. I’ll probably just climb into their bed and strategically position myself perpendicular to their bodies to ensure they know I am there. That’s really the best position to punch Mom in the kidney and kick Dad in the sensitive parts over and over and over.

10. Also, relating to sleep – make bedtime last waaaaaay longer. I mean, 2 stories and 2 songs? Are you kidding me? We can do better, parents. I plan to add in at least 3 more requests for water, declare that my pajamas are too scratchy, get up and try to go potty (but not go) several times, and cry when my blanket is not covering one toe. That should add a few hours on to the routine. Bedtime got way too quick around these parts last year. Time to switch it up.

11. I found clothes to be overrated last year, so I plan on just not wearing much of them this year. Especially when it’s really cold and we are all sick. Just underpants for me! And if that crazy lady MAKES me get dressed, I’ll probably just wait until we get to someone else’s house to disrobe. I mean who doesn’t want to see these awesome Cat Boy undies? They’ll be so jealous.

12. And finally, I resolve, this year, to never share. Ever. Not one single thing. Not a block or book or ball or car or balloon or couch cushion or blanket. This one might be tricky, especially at another kid’s birthday party, for example, but I plan to stay the course. After all, that’s what resolutions are for, right? Time to challenge myself and really commit.

#NewYearNewMe, baby! Let’s do this.


Karen Johnson writes at The 21st Century SAHM—a cathartic mix of Mama Bear rants and heartfelt confessions about motherhood. She is also a regular contributor to Babble, Her View From Home, Sammiches and Psych Meds (where she works as assistant editor), KC Parent Magazine, and Perfection Pending and is featured in several anthologies. Follow Karen on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram.



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