Who has already broken their new year resolution? Come on, hands up. I'm counting.

Shame on you. And those of you who have, so far, stuck to the diet/fitness regime/abstinence from strong liquor need not look so smug. I'll be asking the same question in a month's time.

As for me ... ahem, excuse me while I give my halo a little polish. I have every reason to be proud of my achievements since December 31.

New Year's resolutions generally involve denying yourself something you really like, such as food, nicotine or hours of indolence, and replacing it with something you don't like, such as celery.

This, of course, is the major reason why so many of them fail. You already feel bad about yourself and you end up compounding that misery by stopping the only indulgences that make you happy. And January is a god-awful month under any circumstances.

I'm not usually one for making major life changes at this time of year for this very reason. Now, however, I have sussed out how to make it work. I will not deny myself anything. But every time I succumb to wickedness, I will also accept the punishment.

For example, if I eat a whole Terry's white chocolate orange in one evening (as happened on New Year's Day), not only do I accept that I will feel sick for several hours afterwards (as happened), I will also have to watch whatever sci-fi nonsense my husband has brought back from the video hire shop (in this instance, the second of the Star Wars prequels).

In theory, the prospect of punishment should eventually put me off the crime. It might only take a week or so before I prefer to go without confectionery because I cannot face seeing Darth Vader again. But in the meantime I am not breaking my resolution.

Another promise I have made this year is to laugh more at myself.

Life, I realised, can seem awfully humourless when your day revolves around trying to be the perfect mother, employee and wife.

It's very easy to cry on those occasions when your child swears back at you, your boss swears back at you and your husband is too engrossed in Top Gear to hear you swearing at him.

But these are hardly life-threatening situations. Having recently gone through the horrors of a serious illness (my heart is almost fully recovered, by the way), I am already aware that most of life's challenges pale into insignificance when you consider that it's far better to be here and to deal with them than not be here at all.

When I told my husband my intention was to laugh more at myself, his eyes lit up.

"Does that mean you'll be laughing less at me?" He said brightly.

"Don't worry, sweetheart," I said reassuringly. "You will always be the laugh of my life."