I hate to admit this, but I've come to feel entitled to breakfast in bed on Mother's Day (complete with gifts and a clean kitchen afterwards), a family hike (no whining, everyone remembers their water bottles and packs their own snack, remembering one for me), and a little downtime with a good book before dinner.

But truth be told, I rarely get all, if any, of these Mother's Day treats. I know this shouldn't surprise me, and it shouldn't irritate me... but it kinda does, or it has in the past. It's a horrible confession for someone like me to make, but I'm rarely as cranky as I can be on Mother's Day.

I know I'm not the only one feeling blue on on the second Sunday in May. In fact, I'm bracing myself for a series of phone calls from disgruntled friends again this year. "All I wanted was to picnic on the beach with the kids," one friend lamented last year. Her often-charming but rarely-helpful-with-the-kids husband couldn't get it together -- the waves were looking good, and he thought he'd sneak a quick surf into the schedule, right when he should have been securing picnic supplies. Her kids, two of whom were old enough to take the day into their own hands, didn't rally either. She felt abandoned, and taken for granted.

I know how she felt. One year my kids didn't do anything for me but make very, um, hasty, cards on scrap paper, an effort so effortless it brought tears to my eyes.

Not the happy kind of tears.

The problem isn't the kids, though. It is my focus on myself and what I'm entitled to. Even though I really do believe that we moms deserve a day to be treated like goddesses -- at least one day! -- I don't think it sets us up for the happiest of Mother's Days when we expect this to happen.

Although we think that indulging ourselves is going to make us happy, it generally doesn't: Studies show that we're happier after spending money on others than after spending on ourselves -- yet when people are asked, they expect the opposite will be true.

I see this play out on Mother's Day (for myself, and some of my friends). After we spend so much time caring for those around us -- our kids, our partners, our parents -- we think that a quick ticket to a happy Mother's Day will come from being pampered. But we're inevitably disappointed when we find that focusing on ourselves is not always, or even usually, a sure route to happiness.

The solution to this sticky-wicket is deceptively simple: We can set ourselves up to be happy on Mother's Day -- to feel gratitude and awe and deep love instead of frustration and disappointment -- by simply helping other people. People who help others tend to be less stressed, more joyful, and healthier; less stress, more joy, and greater health all sound good to me this Mother's Day.

So this year, even though I often long for a break from caring for others, I will make Mother's Day all about other people. (I know that this strategy isn't for everyone; those of you suffering from caregiver or compassion fatigue won't want to try this from home.)

We'll celebrate the grandmothers in our family, of course, with a big brunch or a fun family dinner (or both, for both sides of the family). But for months, I've been wanting to try what this guy does for his birthday: spend a day or two doing dozens of little good deeds -- and bring my kids along for the ride.

We're finally going to do it -- for Mother's Day instead of my birthday -- as a way to honor my own mother, Sylvia. She just turned 70 and is as beautiful and vibrant as ever. We'd like to help one person for each year that she has been a mother (41 years).

Since her mother, my Oma, passed away this year (at the amazing age of 104!) we'd also like to honor her by helping at least one person for each year Oma was a mother (71 years). Silly math, but we're aiming to do kind acts for 112 or more people.

We started our "kindness scavenger hunt" this weekend, but to be honest, we didn't get as far with it as I'd hoped. Personally, I could have powered through the whole list, but my kids fatigued after checking just a few things off the list. We agreed we'd do some more on Mother's Day, and each week thereafter, until we think we've helped more than a hundred people.

1. Pick the lemons from our elderly neighbor's tree, make lemonade, and deliver it to her.


2. Bring food to the food bank.


3. Do a loving-kindness meditation for all those that we love and are concerned about -- and also for those that bother us.


4. Leave flowers for a widow who is grieving the man she was married to for 59 years.


5. Give vegetables from our garden to neighbors.


6. Pick up trash in our local park.


7. Stop for everyone looking to cross the street or merge.


8. Make a larger-than-comfortable donation to Tipping Point, a group that is striving to eradicate poverty in our area.


9. Fill a thred up bag full of like-new clothing to benefit Teach for America.


10. Give out extra hugs to the grandmothers in our lives, who really appreciate them.


11. Write a thank-you note to the kids' preschool teacher: one of those "other mothers" that really made a difference in their lives.


12. Make and deliver "care-kits" to as many homeless people in Berkeley as we can, and give the extras to our friends and family to distribute in their travels.


13. Send someone a book I think they will enjoy, totally randomly.


14. Send all the pregnant women I know some of my favorite parenting books.


15. Write a letter to our beat cop thanking him for all he does for our neighborhood.


16. Help a friend with some work on Sunday morning (instead of sleeping in).


17. Visit people at the old age home where my father-in-law used to live (and bring the dog, who despite also being quite old, tends to light up their day).


18. Babysit for the neighbors that have little kids, so that they can have a date-night.


19. Deliver Challahs to temple congregants who are grieving or ill.


20. Serve dinner to homeless and hungry people in San Francisco's tenderloin neighborhood (Glide Memorial allows kids to volunteer).

What do you think we should add to our list? Please add your suggestions as a comment below!

Happy Mother's Day, all. Cheers to all the work you and the mothers you love are doing to raise happiness.

Christine Carter, Ph.D., is a sociologist and happiness expert at UC Berkeley's Greater Good Science Center and the author of Raising Happiness. She coaches and teaches online classes in order to help people bring more joy into their lives, and she writes an award-winning blog for parents and couples. Find Raising Happiness on Facebook or sign up for free Happiness Tips.

Last Saturday night at a birthday soiree, I got to sit across from one of UC Berkeley's cutting-edge ocean researchers. I asked him to explain to me how climate change is affecting fish populations, and he responded by saying that "climate change is happening too slowly." He lamented that while it is true that marine life as we know it will effectively be "dead by 2050," the die-outs are happening too gradually for most folks to care enough to change.

Uh, I don't know about you, but 2050 doesn't seem that far away. That doesn't seem like slow change to me; it seems dramatic, and tragic.

This really lit a fire under my SUV-driving, tuna-eating self.* But seeing an oncoming train and actually stopping it are two entirely different matters. I could list a hundred -- no, a thousand -- small things that we could all do today to stop the climate change train-wreck from happening. But will we actually do them?

For most of us, changing our habits -- reducing our reliance on disposable water bottles, for example -- is a lot like intending to lose weight or exercise more. We may have a very strong desire to be thinner, or a deep conviction to hit the gym regularly, but most people don't actually succeed in eating less or working out more often over the long-term.

Why is it so hard to change, despite our good intentions?

Because change takes willpower, and our willpower is limited. Our brains are more or less hard-wired in a way that makes it difficult to change our wasteful ways.

Thankfully, research has been shedding light on many of the brain mechanisms that tend to foil us, so we can outsmart our brains. Here's how:

1. Beware of moral licensing. Moral licensing occurs when we behave virtuously and then "cancel out" our good deeds by doing something naughty. When we behave in-line with our goals and values -- whether it's as large as trading in our truck for a Prius or as small as not taking a plastic bag at the grocery store -- ironically, we risk back-sliding.

Consciously or unconsciously, we tend to feel that healthy or virtuous activities entitle us to partake in less-good (for us or for the earth) activities. Smokers will smoke more, for example, when they believe they've just taken a Vitamin C pill. Similarly, philanthropists tend to give away less money after they've been reminded of their humanitarian attributes. One study even found that after people buy eco-friendly products, they're more likely to cheat and steal! (New research suggests that some of us are more prone to moral licensing than others. My GGSC colleague Emiliana Simon-Thomas explains here.)

Instead of giving yourself a pat on the back for your own good behavior, avoid the "licensing effect" by reflecting on your goals and values rather than your accomplishment. Why did you ride your bike instead of drive? What larger mission are you trying to fulfill? Questions like these can help us stay focused on what we are trying to achieve instead of sabotaging our own efforts.

2. Structure your environment to minimize the number of decisions you need to make. Every little decision we make takes a little out of our willpower reserve. Low willpower means that you are likely to do what is familiar rather than something more earth-saving.

Outsmart this brain boobie-trap three ways: First, pre-decide as much as you possibly can (where you will go, how you will get there, what you'll bring with you, etc.). So instead of deciding whether to drive or walk to work in the morning right before you leave, commit to the decision to walk the night before.

Second, and this is the critical part: Structure your environment to support your decision. Put your work shoes deep in your backpack and your walking shoes by the door. Knowing that you are going to be tempted to drive, put your car keys in an inconvenient place you won't want to venture to the morning. (Have access to a dusty attic? That'd be perfect.)

Finally, make a specific plan for what you will do when challenges arise (and they will). If you wake up to find it raining, pre-decide that you'll wear your blue rain jacket and take that huge golf umbrella your dad left in the closet. If you wake up late, pre-decide that you'll ride your bike instead of drive. Etc.

3. Reduce your stress. To boost follow-through on our good intentions, we need to relax. When we are stressed, our brains (kindly) try to rescue us by activating our dopamine systems. A dopamine rush makes temptations more tempting. Think of this as your brain pushing you toward a comfort item... like that easy taxi to work rather than the less-than-comforting subway commute.

As Kelly McGonigal writes, "Stress points us in the wrong direction, away from clear-headed wisdom toward our least-helpful instincts." When we're relaxed, we'll choose the locally grown organic apple. When we're stressed? Personally, I have a weakness for chips and queso.

The takeaway: Sometimes the best thing that we can do for the environment is reduce our own stress. Read this post for more stress-reduction tips.

*For the record: my SUV is a hybrid, and I try to eat wild-caught tuna when possible. But I'm not patting myself on the back, because that might lead to moral licensing (see tip #1).

• The changes they would like to make


• The most important reasons for those changes


• The specific steps they plan to take


• The people who can support them -- and precisely how those people can help


• The challenges or potential barriers to their success -- and specifically what they will do when they encounter these difficulties.

© 2013 Christine Carter, Ph.D.

Two 6th grade girls in my daughter's class recently got in a snit in the locker room after PE. Apparently, one girl (let's call her Janet) was wearing boy shorts with "love" emblazoned across the bottom. She claimed these ultra-cool undies came from Victoria's Secret. The other girl said she'd gotten the very same underwear from Target.

They were fighting about status: Did Janet have bragging rights? Or was she upgrading her Target underwear to Victoria's Secret sexiness "to get attention," as my daughter thinks?

These girls are 12 years old. Why are they arguing about this?

I am in the thick of raising daughters. In addition to my own girls, among my circle of closest friends there are a dozen daughters whose backs I'm personally trying to protect. Because I love these girls and see how vulnerable they are, the locker-room argument about Victoria's Secret underwear makes my blood boil.

You may have heard that Victoria's Secret came out blatently targeting teens and tweeners at their fashion show a few months ago: They hired pre-teen idol Justin Beiber to perform while supermodels dressed up as little girl's toys strutted around him. Literally AS the toys: one was a bike with pink streamer handles, another a pinwheel -- watch the video and see for yourself.

Between the cotton candy colors, bright toys and Beiber-fever, it is obvious to me why Victoria's Secret appeals to the bat mitzvah set. For spring break, Victoria's Secret launched the "Bright Young Things" campaign to appeal to young teens, according to Victoria Secret CFO Stuart Burgdoerfer. "When somebody's 15 or 16 years old, what do they want to be?" Burgdoerfer quipped at a conference. "They want to be older, and they want to be cool like the girl in college, and that's part of the magic of what we do."

Advertising and marketing does work like magic. That is what is so scary. This is what Victoria's Secret is teaching our daughters:

(1) Slutty is status. One of the brain changes that occurs during adolescence is a heightened attention to social hierarchy. Teens and tweeners begin taking risks in order to gain social status (like lying about where your underwear comes from). The interesting thing about this is that they tend to take the risks in the areas that their peers will recognize as status: for the drama geeks, getting a big a part in a play is status. For the "in-crowd," partying is status. And for the fashionistas (and the Justin Beiber fanatics, and tweeners that look up to college kids), risqué style is now equated with status.

(2) There is only one type of body that is acceptable. When they put supermodels in high heels, little girl costumes and bubble gum underwear on stage with Justin Beiber, they create an impossible ideal for our girls to emulate, which in turn makes them feel inadequate. Consider these statistics from the University of Washington's Teen Health and the Media:

• 
  

  In a study of fifth graders, both girls and boys told researchers they were dissatisfied with their own bodies after watching a music video by Britney Spears or a clip from the TV show "Friends."

  
  



• 53% of American girls are "unhappy with their bodies." This reaches 78% by the time girls reach seventeen.

  
  



• In a survey of girls 9 and 10 years old, 40% have tried to lose weight.

  
  

As our daughters go through puberty- - a time of intense body changes -- their attention to body image is heightened. These biological and developmental changes are, in turn, amplified further by advertising. They don't call it neuromarketing for nothing: when advertising sends our girls messages about what their changing bodies should look like -- and it isn't what they do look like -- the ad causes a dopamine rush in our daughters' brains that, in turn, creates intense desire for what is being advertised.

I don't know about you, but I don't want my daughters to think of their ideal selves as uber-sexy barbie-dolls with "call me" on their panties, and I don't want them to feel inadequate compared to this brightly-colored exemplar.

(3) Boys should objectify girls. When I saw that fashion show I couldn't help but think of the Steubenville gang rape, in which a teen girl was so blatantly objectified she was used as a sex toy and dragged, unconscious, from party to party. Where do boys learn that girls are objects, accessories for their entertainment? Look no further than the media, where objectified women are the norm rather than the exception.

The media's influence is so great that a new study from the European Journal of Social Psychology shows that our brains tend to process photos of regular, everyday women as a collection of sexualized body parts, while our brains process a photos of men as whole people.

I want my girls to have boyfriends that see them for the whole people that they are, boys who treat them as individuals, not objects or a bunch of sexualized body parts. I want my girls to have meaningful intimate relationships. When they are ready to be sexually active, I want them to feel loved and cherished by their sexual partners and empowered by their sexuality -- not used and discarded like last year's Christmas present.

I do know that Victoria's Secret is not our only, or even our biggest, problem. Dozens of other companies taunt our youth with hyper-sexualized images -- the tween market is worth "$335 billion of spending power," retail analyst Hitha Prabhaker told the TODAY show Tuesday morning.

Large consumer products companies, with their gazillion-dollar marketing budgets, are influencing our kids in profound ways. As parents, we can protect them by not letting them watch commercials and by not letting them shop in (or, frankly, even near) stores like Victoria's Secret. We can -- and should -- write letters and hope that our righteous anger goes viral on Facebook. But honestly, these tactics feel profoundly inadequate compared to the marketing machines that we face. Can we win a war by boycotting the companies that hurt kids, or by simply hiding our children from the enemy?

I hope so.

But I'm also open to other ideas if you've got them.

© 2013 Christine Carter, Ph.D.

Christine Carter, Ph.D., is a sociologist and happiness expert at UC Berkeley's Greater Good Science Center and the author of Raising Happiness. She coaches and teaches online classes in order to help people bring more joy into their lives, and she writes an award-winning blog for parents and couples.  Find Raising Happiness on Facebook or sign up for free Happiness Tips.

Adolescent: You say that I have to do all these things to make the team, but I think I'll make the team even if I don't jump through those hoops.
Parent: You're not sure all this work is necessary.

Adolescent: I'm not an alcoholic!
Parent: That label really doesn't fit you.

Adolescent: I'm not an alcoholic!
Parent: It really makes you angry when you think you are being labeled in that way.

Adolescent: I'm really not sure that I need help or treatment to deal with this.
Parent: Your life is really fine right now, just the way it is.

© 2013 Christine Carter, Ph.D.

© 2012 Christine Carter, Ph.D.

© 2012 Christine Carter, Ph.D.

© 2012 Christine Carter, Ph.D.

© 2012 Christine Carter, Ph.D.

© 2012 Christine Carter, Ph.D.

© 2012 Christine Carter, Ph.D.

While reputation management remains challenging for adults, imagine how difficult it is for a child to understand how the digital decisions they make today will stay with them, and the rest of cyberspace, forever.

Colleges and universities are increasingly relying on digital data when deciding who gets letters of acceptance. Employers are increasingly conducting digital background checks on applicants before entrusting them with jobs. Today our digital footprint is our new first impression, and it starts taking shape the minute we go online.

© 2012 Christine Carter, Ph.D.

© 2012 Christine Carter, Ph.D.