For Whom The Bell Goals

I've always despised goal-making. Goals are just made-up obligations. I have enough obligations. Why would I imagine more on myself?
Then I read Catherine Dabel's (@lainiegal) tweet about her sons setting a goal to NOT FIGHT FOR 100 DAYS and if they could do it, live peaceably amongst on another, their parents promised them a puppy. A real four legged animal that barks, bites and makes a home happy.
I read this to Chup and he loved it almost as much as I did. It made us think kids could be accountable for making their own dreams come true some day. Then I tweeted this to Catherine, how her sons were inspiring us, but she was too busy thinking of ways to make them fight.
I also have dreams, you know. I have lots of dreams. Last week I made a goal to make my bed and get myself dressed.  
(It's harder than it looks.)
This week I had three more goals.
One, to get my head massaged. I texted my super nieces and two of them said they'd come down to massage my head (the other two are dead to me).
Lindsay showed up on Monday, brushed and combed my hair and then braided it in fancy rows into a finality of fishtails. As she did so we talked about fellas, prom dresses and how her brother Van just left on a Lds mission to Chile. I love it when little sisters love their older brothers.

Then she held a pajama-clad Squishy.

Olivia came a couple days later massaged my entire head and neck then gave me a hipster bun. We talked about boys and hand-holding and a certain adorable boy who is my neighbor, oh gosh I hope I didn't just spill the beans.

Of course, I had to trade them for treats. But treats for dreams? That's a fair trade in my book.
Secondly, I said I was going to finish my book. I am still working on that dream.(Mercy!)
Thirdly, I wanted to take more walks to cool-off my over-heated brain. Nothing does it for me like pushing my legs up and down the fine hilly roads of my neighborhood. A brisk jaunt makes everything right with the world. Goal! Look at this, I even convinced my children to come with me. They only look kind of cold and sorta distraught.

(It's harder to put Ever's mittens on than it looks. And my children won't wear hats. I have cute hats for them, owls, cats, dog hats. Why are my children too good for hats?)
What are my goals for next week? Paint my toenails and get my children to wear hats.
(This is more fun than it looks.)
By-the-way Catherine's boys made it to 100 days, and look! Puppy love!

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