In December, New Year Resolutions loom large for me. As a borderline perfectionist and all-around over-achiever, the holidays are my time to shine.

This year is no exception, but it's also the ultimate exception.

While the news of several effective vaccines on the horizon is encouraging, the battle with COVID-19 is not yet over. We are in the fourth quarter, but there is still time on the clock. Lots of time.

So we head into this already stressful season with our emotions a maelstrom of gratitude, fear, optimism, pessimism, happiness, and exhaustion. When we are usually encouraged to come together, we are now urged to stay apart. After months of this, we are asked to do more. Just. A. Little. Bit. More.

Last year I wrote about seasons of resolutions, which is my approach to adopting new habits a few months at a time in the New Year. Each quarter is an opportunity to grow and learn, and this process keeps me motivated throughout the year. I usually approach it with a spirit of renewal and change, with clarity and resolve.

This year, resolve has new meaning.

This year, resolve is about endurance. Finding the strength to get up every day and go through the routine of remote school, remote work, and remote socializing. When we started these things in March, we braced ourselves for two weeks, maybe three, and then we'd be back together. It hasn't worked out that way. Now we must push through to the end of what's become a marathon, rather than the sprint we thought it would be. Trust me, the last few miles of 26.2 are much more challenging than the first. As Robert Frost said, the best way out is always through. And so through we must go, resolutely.

This year, resolve is about safety. Gathering the willpower to do what's best for my family, even though it's tempting to let down our guard. I overtip the many delivery people who allow me to avoid shopping in person, and thank them profusely when I see them. I'm grateful for my husband's essential job in the transportation industry and still breathe a sigh of relief when he's safe at home each evening. I'd like nothing more than to send my kids back to school, but I don't see how that's realistic or safe, and so we do our best each day, tempering what's due with what's possible because being safe includes our mental health, too. We don our masks for walks around the block, and I socialize on porches and back yards and on screen. We stay in touch while trying not to touch anything or anyone.

This year, resolve is about being in the moment. I try to let go of my urge to make the holidays a perfect greeting-card scene with magazine cover tablescapes and instead set the table with the good china even when we order Chinese. I wear fancy tops and jewelry with leggings and slippers because it brings me joy. I set up the Christmas tree, decorated the house a little early, and blast the holiday music without shame. The Christmas stockings I started to embroider will remain unfinished for the 9th consecutive year, and it's okay. They will still be packed with treats on the 25th, and nobody will notice. I fill a reindeer mug with cheer and get to work on my family's vintage Santa puzzle. I'll simplify the Christmas cookie list, and they will be no less delicious. The kids have ice cream for breakfast sometimes. Whatever it takes to make us smile and break up the routine.

When the year comes to a close, I will be relieved and wish 2020 a not-so-fond farewell. I will never look at resolutions in quite the same way again. But for 2021, I feel confident in my resolve to look forward with gratitude, joy, and hope.

This essay originally appeared in the December Issue of Fete Lifestyle Magazine.