Day 95: Room to Breathe

Yesterday was the first truly beautiful Spring day we were able to get out and enjoy, and boy did we take advantage! The morning was spent at the "Sugar Shack" where we learned all about maple trees, sap, and syrup. We even got to roam the woods with buckets, collecting the dripping sap. The combination of sun, fresh, open air, leaves crunching under our feet and mud squishing up around our boots was magical after a long winter, especially for my earthy boy.

But the real treat came after the field trip was over. We sat in the grass and dirt - sans blanket or wet wipes (*gasp* I'm working on appreciating the value of unclean and messy!) - and ate a picnic lunch with good friends. When the kids (all 2-3 years old) had finished eating, they ran to the row of massive rock piles right next to us, where they spent nearly an hour climbing, jumping, and sliding around with each other while we mothers enjoyed nearly uninterrupted conversation.

The conversation itself was energizing and encouraging as it always is among this supportive group, and it stirred ideas that will be coming out in future posts. But I was affected on a deeper level simply by watching these wonderful women with their children.

I cringed as Jackson rolled around in the dirt and dust. I worried when he wandered out of sight on the other side of the mound. I held my breath as he stood at the top, working to keep his balance. I watched intently as he interacted with his peers to make sure I'd see if he needed my help.

Then I looked around and saw the freedom these other women felt and started tuning in to it.

One child was climbing the rocks barefooted, another without pants, and all were taking their turn on the other side of the mountain where they could be heard but not seen. There was no one yelling, "Careful!", no one standing up to check in. These women were trusting their children, giving them some much-needed freedom and space to play and explore. And they seemed to be doing it without a second thought.

I, on the other hand, was running an inner monologue to convince myself to honor these same needs that I know Jackson has: The car seat can be cleaned, his clothes can be washed, he can take a bath - let him get dirty. He is capable of asking for help if he needs it, he is capable of making safe choices without me hovering - let him play in earshot out of sight. He's thoughtful and cautious - let him decide when to be careful and what careful means. He's an excellent communicator, capable of navigating peer relationships without interference, and able to ask for help when he needs it - let him interact without guidance and decide how to handle conflict if it arises.

After a while, my nervous energy was overtaken by the calm coming from these other women, and the monologue was put to rest. Then both he and I were able to really bask in the gift of freedom we were being given in these moments.

Jackson is sensitive, but not weak. And he's growing stronger by the day. I'm doing my best to recognize and respect his emerging confidence and abilities and his diminishing need for guidance and assistance. But in all honesty, I'm probably doing a below-average job.

I hover. And when I do, I communicate distrust. When he senses that I don't think he's capable, that I think he'll need help, it eats away at the confidence he's trying to develop and stunts his growth. My only reward is a bump or bruise avoided, maybe an insignificant conflict diffused; very small prizes when they come at the expense of his autonomy.

The times I'm able to let go and give him room to breathe, I see him flourish. I watch him attempt big things, believing he can accomplish them, and he surprises me with capabilities I didn't know he had, because I never gave him an opportunity to showcase them. And the payoff I get when he beams with pride or learns to pick himself up and try again is enormous.

Being a part of this community is a humbling and inspiring experience, and one for which I will be eternally grateful. I'm continually challenged and validated in ways that wouldn't be possible on my own. So thank you, to those of you who blessed us with your presence yesterday and gave us the gift of freedom!

Day 79: Brotherly Love

When Max was born, Jackson's interest in nursing was at an all time low. Nap, bedtime, and don't bother me in between, Mom. So I never really had a reason to get the hang of tandem nursing. We tried a time or two, but when things didn't fall easily into place, we just ended up taking turns. Until this week.

We got home later than expected. Max was tired and fussy, and Jackson was expecting to nurse like he usually does before lunch and nap. As I found myself trying to decide which one needed me more, it dawned on me: Wait a minute! Two boys, two "milks" (as Jack likes to call them)...it's not rocket science. So we wriggled and squirmed our way around until everyone was comfortable and there was silence, beautiful silence.

The silence alone would've been enough of a reward for me, but it got better. I got a front seat to this: the boys gazed at each other, Jack gave Max gentle touches and Max reciprocated before unlatching to give his big brother a huge, milky grin. Then they held hands! If that doesn't melt your heart, nothing will.

It was such an awesome experience that Jackson has continued to ask to nurse with Max over the past few days and we're finally getting this tandem nursing thing figured out. I only wish I had done it sooner so we all could've enjoyed this kind of closeness from the start. And I'll be honest, I could've really used the moments peace and quiet a little sooner!

But better late than never. And I'm sure we have lots of time ahead of us to make up for it. I'm so thankful for the breastfeeding relationship I have with each of them and now that the three of us will have together. It's hard to say what the future holds, but if the present is any indication of how close they'll be as they grow up, I'm very excited to witness the evolution of their loving relationship and the genuine friendship that will come from it.

Day 70: Can I Interest you in a Why Sandwich

A few days in, and Jackson's why sandwiches are about as appealing as this one.

"Why, Mommy? Why?"

No detail is too minuscule, no subject uninteresting enough to escape the why sandwich.

So to squelch that devilish little voice that reminds me how annoying this can get by the end of a long day, I'm going to use classical conditioning to my advantage. Each time I'm served a why sandwich, I will close my eyes, take a deep breath and release all my tension.

Hopefully this will keep me from bottling all that annoyance throughout the day until the floodgates burst after an innocent, "But why are you cutting the onion, Mommy? Why?"

And given the frequency at which I'm encountering the why sandwich, I'd say my overall mental state should go from 'crazed lunatic' to 'beach lounger' in no time.

How cool that he's digging deeper to better understand his world. And what a privilege that I get to be the one to answer all those questions and show him the world as I see it.

Day 65: Balancing Act

After a spectacular Holistic Moms Network meeting last night, I'm feeling refreshed and ready to tackle life again. But this time, in a whole new way.

I went into the meeting feeling pulled in too many directions, like there wasn't enough of me to go around and like my life was a balancing act gone wrong. I know this leaves me always-behind, hurried, and generally frantic, an energy I'm subjecting everyone in my life to, especially the kids.

I came out of the meeting with a renewed perspective, feeling capable and centered. The tools she gave us were really helpful, and I'm going to put them to good use to go from scattered to focused and from spread thin to covering my bases. But it was the meditation that pushed me over the frenzied hump.

After only a few brief, kid-interrupted minutes of meditation, I felt less physical tension, less stress, less resistance. I was calm. Not the kind I put on to try to provide a peaceful environment for the kids or to keep my craziness from spreading to other moms I'm with. The real kind. The kind I hadn't felt in a while, because I hadn't stopped moving in a while.

Being forced to just be, to not do, was more powerful than I'd imagined. The to-do list, expectations, responsibilities all slipped away, and they took all my tension with them. And in its place they left gratefulness, love, trust, and acceptance.

I didn't realize how long it had been since I had stopped. Other than vegging out with my husband after the kids are in bed, I literally haven't stopped since Max was born. And as much as I love Parenthood and Dexter, they're not exactly helping me find balance.

I've been approaching my responsibilities the same detrimental, default way I had been approaching internal power struggles. Push through, make it work, sheer force of will will get things done. But checking things off the list this way wasn't bringing any relief, and certainly no peace.

So my new balancing act - the act I am committing to in order to find balance - is to take ten minutes, the first ten minutes, of the boys' afternoon nap to just be.

Today that meant meditating and doing self-reiki along with the Lisa's CD, other days it might mean a ten-minute nap, ten minutes of prayer, or ten minutes of head-clearing silence. Whatever they look like, I'm committing to giving myself those ten minutes every single day so that my cup is full, maybe even over-flowing and able to fill up the people around me.

My hope is that this simple act will help me remain focused, actually make me more efficient, and more importantly bring a sense of peace and trust to my day that I can share with my kids.

So here's me trading stress for trust: I am enough. I am capable. I will accomplish what needs to be done. And I will do it with love and gratitude, because those are the reasons the list exists in the first place.

Day 64: Alone Time

I tend to be a bit of an introvert (shocking, I know). As such, I really value alone time. And although I don't get much of it these days, what little I do get refreshes me and keeps me going on the days I want to throw up my hands and walk away never to return (I know you know the days I'm talking about!). But introvert or not, sometimes what I need is a hug, a good conversation or just some good ol' fun.

Jackson's going through a temporary aggravation period after taking a homeopathic remedy on Sunday, and he's been struggling with insomnia, hyperactivity, and feeling generally out of control. From experience I know that these are all things that leave him overwhelmed and unable to cope with even the smallest stressor.

Needless to say, the day so far has been full of melt-downs and freak-outs. Oh, and he's had a tough day too.

I've got lots of work piling up, so I'm feeling pressure to try to get things done while the kids are awake. This is usually a disaster because either they or my work has to suffer - I can't give 100% to both. But sometimes half-assed work is better than uncompleted work, so I gave it a shot again today.

I was expecting Jackson to resist my decision to work, to try to divert my attention to him. Instead, he plopped himself down in his bedroom and read book after book to himself. It turned out that the time I spent working was the time he felt most centered and calm today, the time he was most himself.

Quite simply, he needed some alone time. And I didn't see it.

All morning I felt like I had to be by his side to help him through a tough day. I was focused on how patient and present I needed to be. I felt "shoulds" raining down on me when I put my attention anywhere else. But only because I wasn't tuning in.

I was thinking about what a mother should do for a struggling child instead of what I should do for my struggling child today.

There are days when all he needs is me, present and patient. But not today. I didn't grant him the respect of allowing his needs to change until I stumbled upon it by accident. Today was a great reminder to listen to what his behavior tells me about his needs, to ask him what he needs, and not to assume that his needs are static.

It's no less true for him at two than it is for me as an adult: The same need must be met in different ways on different days.

Day 55: Make the What?

I will choose to find a positive perspective under even the most negative circumstances.
I will choose acceptance over resistance.
I will choose to focus on the things I value about my children, not the things that drive me nuts.
I will choose to extend the same grace, love and forgiveness to myself that I try to lavish on my husband and children each day.

What comes to mind when you look at that bed? Cozy, comfy, inviting... Not me. When I look at that bed, I think: Childless.

There was a time when making the bed, ridiculous decorative pillows and all, was therapeutic. Lining up the seams precisely, fluffing each pillow to perfection, straightening and re-straightening, then stepping back to take a deep breath and soak it in. It was like a calming ritual. And each time I'd walk past it, it would refresh me and renew a sense of peace and order.

Nowadays my bed looks more like this.

I'd have taken an actual picture of our bed, but it would've been a little too embarrassing. The covers are perpetually falling off the end, the pillows are never at the head, and at any given time you can find random socks, diapers and other various items strewn across it. Not exactly peaceful.

I could experience it as a chaotic space, but instead I want to look past the surface and see the peace that underlies all that chaos.

This is the space where I connect with Max. When he's snuggled up next to me and Nick at night, the covers fall because we keep each other warm. The pillows are out of place because he still wants to nap in the place he feels most secure - our bed - and thus I must barricade him with pillows now that he's semi-mobile. The items that litter the bed are evidence of a baby well-loved and cared for.

The things that bring all that external chaos to our bed bring so much internal peace to me and Max. I wouldn't trade any of it.

So now the mission is to find another, easily completed daily task that can bring peaceful energy and a sense of order like the bed used to.

Day 54: Love Me Tender

I will choose to find a positive perspective under even the most negative circumstances.
I will choose acceptance over resistance.
I will choose to focus on the things I value about my children, not the things that drive me nuts.
I will choose to extend the same grace, love and forgiveness to myself that I try to lavish on my husband and children each day.

I recently paged through The Five Love Languages of Children. I picked it up because I wanted to glance at the categorized ways of showing love, but skimmed because I knew I wouldn't subscribe to much of its reward-punishment-based philosophy. As is the case with most things, I absorb what resonates and what I think is right for my family and leave the rest behind.

The love languages according to the book are:
1. Words of Affirmation
2. Quality Time
3. Receiving Gifts
4. Acts of Service
5. Physical Touch

So I've been actively observing how the boys respond to and offer the different kinds of love.

Max was relatively easy to pin down. The kid loves kisses more than any human being on the planet. Plus, he's a baby, and what does a baby love more than being nursed, cuddled, and held, right? With time and development another may start to dominate, but for now, physical touch is his primary love language.

Jackson has taken much more thought and attention to figure out. He's such a connected and sensitive little boy that they all seem to be dominant! They say that watching how a person gives love is a clue about how they best receive love, but Jackson seems well-versed in all five.

He loves giving compliments (Daddy, I like your shirt!) and pitching in (Mommy, I'm vacuuming the floor for you!). He's always running up to us with something special (*handing me a box of breast pads wrapped in a homer hanky* Mommy, I'm the great birthday bird and I have a birthday present just for you!), he chooses together over alone whenever he can (Mommy, I want to play downstairs. Will you come with me?), and he gives heart-melting gentle touches to all of us all the time.

I just couldn't nail him down to one category. So I asked him. But he never gave a consistent answer, so that didn't help me peg him either.

Then I watched how he responded to me when I showed him love in different ways. And still no definite confirmation.

I finally came to the conclusion that Jackson is so young and such an open person, he's able to give and receive love effectively in each of the five ways. But one of the things I learned through this observation is that when it come to physical touch, he is more responsive to subtle forms of affection. Somehow I hadn't picked up on that before.

Of course he gets and gives lots of hugs and kisses, so there was nothing new there. It was specifically his response to other forms of touch - a gentle rub on his back or holding his hand while we talked - that jumped out at me.

When I or my husband showed him love in these less obvious ways, his body would visibly calm, his voice would quiet or he'd become silent, and all of his attention would be on us and especially on the touch. It was so remarkable that I'm shocked it slipped by me for so long.

When I reflect, he has always given this kind of affection to us. For as long as I can remember, he has gently stroked my arm or my face while he nurses. And when Nick goes to him in the middle of the night, he does the same and softly says, "I'm giving Daddy gentle touches." And of course he's utilized this as a calming technique a few times too.

So today, I decided to put this information to use. While he was watching Daddy on the computer I rubbed his back and played with his hair. He was completely still until I stopped, then he would turn to me and quietly request, "Mommy, I'd like you to keep touching me." What a special way of sharing calm time together and showing love!

Physical touch is pretty low on my list, especially right now when I have two little beings clinging to me all the time, so I guess it's understandable that this one flew over my head for so long. But I'm so glad I've tuned in to it, because I think it will be a very important tool for helping him maintain a balanced and calm spirit.

Day 40: A Year's Work Pays Off

I will choose to find a positive perspective under even the most negative circumstances.
I will choose acceptance over resistance.
I will choose to focus on the things I value about my children, not the things that drive me nuts.
I will choose to extend the same grace, love and forgiveness to myself that I try to lavish on my husband and children each day.

As parents, we're constantly teaching, consciously or not. Sometimes our children exhibit a new behavior and we wonder why or where they got it, only to realize they picked it up from watching us. Oh, were you there when I was kicking the dog for jumping on the baby? Oops! Other times we teach the same phrases, actions, and guidelines over and over for months on end without seeing a return. But if we hang in there, that miraculous, long-awaited day comes when we see all our hard work pay off. We experienced one of these at ECFE today.

Jackson was across the room from me playing with his favorite tractor, complete with a farmer and trailer full of animals, when he was approached by the oldest (3) and largest boy in the room. As the boy grabbed the tractor and started to pull, Jackson held on tight and searched the room for me with an uncharacteristically calm face. I stayed where I was and simply said, "Talk to him about it."

He turned to the boy and said, "I'm going to keep this." The boy continued to pull, and a teacher moved in to moderate. She told the boy to listen, and asked Jackson to tell him again, which he did with a little more gusto. When the boy persisted, the teacher encouraged Jack to repeat himself, and he replied with a strong, "It's not okay for you to take this from me." Finally, the boy took notice and they were able to play with the coveted toy together peacefully.

I sat back and watched in amazement and with intense pride. There was no fit, there was no yelling, not even a moment of reactivity despite that fact that his feelings were strong. He maintained composure, spoke strongly, but respectfully, and stood his ground in an intimidating circumstance. These are the things I've been consciously teaching for over a year, and he was finally able to access them without my guidance. Hooray!

It may feel like all the repetition is for nothing, like they're just not getting it. But the truth is they get it in their own time. Today was the day Jackson was emotionally ready to tackle this situation on his own, not yesterday or a day sooner. And tomorrow he may need guidance again. But at least I know the groundwork we're laying isn't for naught. No matter how many times you tell yourself, sometimes a reminder like this makes it that much easier to go on repeating the same lessons over and over and over.

And now that I know he's added this skill to his communication tool belt, maybe it's time for me to catch up!
 

Day 17: Cheater, Cheater, Chocolate Chip Eater

I will choose to find a positive perspective under even the most negative circumstances.
I will choose acceptance over resistance.
I will choose to focus on the things I value about my children, not the things that drive me nuts.
I will choose to extend the same grace, love and forgiveness to myself that I try to lavish on my husband and children each day.

I'm home all day with no one but my kids. And all day the giant bag of Ghirardelli chocolate chips stares at me through my see-through cupboards (damn see-through cupboards!). All day they talk to me: "Remember how delicious we are? We know you want us!" And all day the candida talks to me: "FEED ME! I don't care if you have to give up your first-born, just eat those chocolate chips!!" No one's watching...no one will know...But my body knows. And my kids' bodies know.

Our terrible day yesterday actually went pretty well, all things considered. I stayed calm, helped Jackson even though I felt frustrated and we had a pretty peaceful evening after his body settled down. Today, after indulging in a generous handful of chocolate chips, is quite a different story. I've been short tempered and trying to control his behavior. He had to help me calm down twice. That's right, my two year old had to help me, his parent, calm down. It's very sweet and kind of impressive that he knows how, but I'm totally ashamed that he ever has reason to. 

First, when I was getting angry about him dragging toys all over the house and leaving them on the floor (unfair expectations, maybe??) he put his finger to his lips and started blowing out pretend birthday candles - something I taught him to help him breathe through big feelings. Then, when I was upset that he wasn't going to the potty when I told him to (without providing my physical presence, which he needs in order to help him follow through without distraction) he walked slowly toward me with arms outstretched, compassionate eyes and the calmest body language I've ever seen and just put his hands on me, then hugged me. Talk about a wake up call!

I feel like I should be on a Public Service Announcement: "This is your brain. This is your brain on candida." If you've never felt it, you probably think the cravings are crazy and the post-sugar behavior doesn't make sense. But this absolutely solidified the correlation between food, body and mood for me. So back on the diet I go. Strictly. And with a good attitude and optimistic outlook...expecting success.

I could easily use cheating as an excuse to give up and say I can't do it, but my kids deserve more than that. If I can't do it for my health or for how liberated I'll feel when the cravings and sugar-possessed behaviors have passed, then I'll do it so I can be a better mom to my two little men. They deserve better from me, and I intend to give it to them.

Day 10: A New Day

I will choose to find a positive perspective under even the most negative circumstances.
I will choose acceptance over resistance.
I will choose to focus on the things I value about my children, not the things that drive me nuts.
I will choose to extend the same grace, love and forgiveness to myself that I try to lavish on my husband and children each day.

What a difference a day makes. Helping him get dressed, I noticed Jackson's skin was beautiful, as beautiful as his demeanor. Instead of struggling, we were dancing and laughing. He was back to his old self - cooperative, cheerful, and genuinely wanting to make everyone else as happy as he was. The mind-body connection is so obvious in him because his skin tells all his body's secrets. I wish I could remember that more often and offer him an extra helping of grace on the bad days, knowing that it's not really him.


Instead of moving through the house like a hurricane, leaving a disaster in his wake, he was sweeping, vacuuming (pretending of course), and putting toys away without prompting - providing for himself the kind of peaceful and orderly environment he wanted to be in. It brought me back my childhood when my own mother, met with "But Whyyyyy!" upon asking me to clean my room, explained that a mess on the outside was a sign of a mess on the inside.

I've seen this play out with Jackson so clearly, so many times. When he feels overwhelmed or out of control, he brings that chaos to his world. I rarely make the connection until we're well into the day and I'm already looking back regretfully at my own failure to manage it in a healthy way. I guess that's because the days I do manage it well, I don't look back. But what a gift if I could grab on to that right away, prep myself, and use it as a tool to get through our tough days peacefully.

I see this in myself too. When I feel overwhelmed and default into negativity, I let it color every interaction and experience in my day. It feels impossible change my perspective because the day has already been logged under "bad" and shall stay that way until we reset overnight...because those are the rules.

I'm learning, as my good friend Brooke pointed out in blogging about her own parenting journey, to see each interaction and experience as fresh and new. Choosing not to get caught up in a bad day, expecting positive things, and allowing for a midstream positive change in myself and my kids will save me from ever having to say, "he wore me down." I can choose to let it wear on me, or I can choose to take a fresh look, even pretend that the previous interactions didn't happen in order to give us all the gift of starting over...and over, and over, and over if need be.

This one will not be an easy lesson to put into practice. I tend to dwell and let things build until screaming about dates is really just the culmination of all the frustration I had been trying (poorly) to manage over the course of the day. Starting over was one of the tools I gave Jackson as a way to work through his own big feelings, and now it's time for Mommy to start modeling it. Wish me luck!

Day 6: Superpowers

I will choose to find a positive perspective under even the most negative circumstances.


This summer as I was running with Jackson in the jogger and my huge pregnant belly hanging out the bottom of my tank top, a stranger smiled at me and said, "Super Mom, eh?" I smiled back and looked down at my little pre-two angel, my miniature best friend who came with me everywhere I went. I pondered our utopian life of sunshine, splashpads, and jogging to farmers markets, libraries and parks, and thought, "Yeah. Maybe I am."

Fast forward to the present and I feel like anything but Super Mom. My house is a disaster. I now find myself at odds with my definitely-two angel far too often. There's not enough of me to adequately meet the needs of my husband and both my children. And I literally want to cry when I think about how far off in the future we will be when I'm finally able to meet my own needs of running, reading and relaxing.

This experience has opened me, made me more understanding, less critical and more compassionate. It's something that will allow me to relate to and support other mothers in a way I never could have before. It's pulled me from my black and white world where clean floors, "perfect" children, and a completed to-do list are necessary to feel happy, to a world where dust doesn't matter, children learn about real life, and the things on the to-do list are unimportant in comparison to the things that can't be tallied. This is a world beyond happiness, a world of contentment.

Do I wish the growing process could be a little less painful? You bet! But the lessons are worth every difficult moment. So I'll still don the cape, but now I'm a different kind of Super Mom. The kind who is able to prioritize relationships over tasks and who is able to see the fellow superhero in every mom.

I will choose acceptance over resistance.
Jackson and I have taken ECFE classes since he was just a few weeks old. It's a place he knows and loves. But today we went to our first class of the new semester in a different room with different friends, different toys, and different teachers. We came a few minutes late (no surprise there), so all the eight other kids, four moms and three teachers were playing and talking. It was loud, busy, a lot for anyone to walk into, but especially my sensitive, peace-loving little boy.

He was excited to be there, excited about all the new people and things, excited about all the activity he was about to be a part of. But he was also overwhelmed. He found favorite toys, one after another, and started hoarding (something tied to the current homeopathic remedy we're using for his eczema, but also a sign that he was overwhelmed). He started yelling, "No. You can't have these toys." as he looked frantically around the room.

Now let me tell you about all the external pressure I was feeling. I was feeling "rude" for not being able to go introduce myself to the other moms and new teachers. I was feeling the expectation was for me to stop him from yelling or force him to put toys down. I was feeling the other adults would make judgments about my child based on this first impression, and by association, judgments about me. I was feeling like I wanted him to show them what a kind and gentle kid he is instead of what he looked like in that moment.

But I ignored all of that. I accepted how he felt and how he was communicating it to me. I acknowledged his feelings, we found a quiet step to sit on, and we talked about being overwhelmed. I stayed close because I know I have to be his calm in the storm when he feels that way in a chaotic environment. And within minutes he was going around the room finding new friends to give his favorite toys to: "Would you prefer to play with this?" "Here, you can have a turn with this." "What's your name?" "Would you like me to make you some toast?" All of a sudden he was thriving in this environment that was initially so challenging for him, and he no longer needed my help.

And wouldn't you know, I still got the chance to talk with all the moms and teachers. Their kids took turns yelling too. And those expectations were probably all in my head to begin with. Glad I'm working on my acceptance superpower!

I will choose to focus on the things I value about my children, not the things that drive me nuts.
Max is obsessed with his penis. He's four months old and he literally can't stop grabbing his crotch. Diaper changes: Crotch. Bath time: Crotch. Potty time: Crotch. It wouldn't drive me so nuts, but his hand is always in the way, making these tasks very difficult to accomplish. I was giving him some diaper free time on the floor the other day and walked in the room to find him lying on top of his arm, face on the rug...you guessed it: Crotch.

I love that he's, um, focused? Curious? In tune with his body? Well, I do know that I love that he makes me laugh. I just hope this isn't a prelude to a really awkward stage in adolescence...

I will choose to extend the same grace, love and forgiveness to myself that I try to lavish on my husband and children each day.
Only six days in and I can log a success! Jackson's carrots ended up in his cup along with his straw at lunch time. You better believe I saw it, but I chose to ignore it and let him continue. We talked about other things, sang a song, and he made some cute comment about the carrots tasting sweeter when he dipped them in the water. He played and ate for a short while, looking up a handful of times to see what my reaction was going to be. Then, because he has to verbalize all observations, he said with a smile, "Mommy didn't notice I put my carrots in my water."

This could have been a power struggle, it could have ended in one or both of us feeling really frustrated. Instead he got to play and we got to interact peacefully and happily. And the world kept spinning, even though carrots don't belong in cups.

Day 3: Teaching Each Other, Teaching Ourselves

I will choose to find a positive perspective under even the most negative circumstances.
I was pissed. The house was a mess, Max was struggling to fall asleep, it was already 1:30pm (waaaaay too late to just be starting nap time), and I had a to-do list hanging over my head that I knew wasn't going to be touched. I was experience internal chaos, and it pissed me off. I could tell that Jack was picking up on it as I was helping him into his comfy pants for his nap (because he picks up on everything), so I said, "Jackson, I'm feeling really really frustrated right now." He looked at me thoughtfully, raised his hand to touch me, and in the sweetest voice you've ever heard half-whispered, "Calm. Calm. Calm. Calm." as he gently stroked my hair. Just like that, the chaos was replaced by utter contentment and peace. And that change in my energy was met with, "Mommy feels better now."

My inability to cope with life at that moment gave Jackson an opportunity to practice a really valuable skill. He got to see that, at only two years old, he is able to make a big difference in his world and mine. I got to see that when I model these tools to him it matters, really matters. It was a great reminder that, even though I sometimes model negative reactions, it does not erase all the positive things I give him.

I will choose acceptance over resistance.
Jackson ran away from me at the grocery store. This has never happened before because he's always been in the cart. But today we took the fancy cart with the car on front for him to drive. The car he can get in and out of at will. I did my best to assume things would go well, but if I'm honest, I pictured him having a tough time staying in the whole time since we had a pretty long list. So when we rounded the corner past Mr. Cow, he jumped out, looked at me with sheer glee, and ran.

I had a choice to make. I could be the mom running down the aisle after him yelling, but Max was in the sling and Jack would probably out run me. I could be the mom who walks away to scare him into coming back, which would scar my sensitive little boy for life. Or I could be the mom who waits patiently until he's ready to come back on his own, which makes me feel "permissive" even though I know better.

So I stood there and waited with a smile on my face. I took in the sweet laughter. I watched him run to the end of the aisle and gaze into the ice cream freezer to see the pretty colors, having no idea he was looking at mommy's nemesis. I watched him turn to see if I was reacting, then sit down with a huge smile on his face and talk to himself happily. Then I watched the smile disappear as he looked to his right at what I can only imagine to be a rather large man who was smiling at him just out of my line of sight. Then I heard that wonderful word, "Mommy!" He said it again as he ran back to me, much faster than he had run away.

If I had resisted this behavior, I would have cheated him out of that valuable lesson he learned all on his own. They say what we resist persists, and indeed, if I had cheated him out of that lesson, I dare say running the aisles would become our grocery store routine. He needed freedom and room to figure out that the behavior I wanted to see in him, staying in the car with me, was also the behavior that made him feel safe and happy. I'm so proud that I gave that to him this time, because there are so many times I don't. I guess we both learned a lesson.

I will choose to focus on the things I value about my children, not the things that drive 
me nuts.
Jackson keeps putting his hand, food, utensils, and anything else he can reach, in his water glass at meal time. I can't stand it. Cups are for drinking and any other creative use of them just isn't right. Oh, wait. Did I say creative? That's right. He's using his imagination, exploring his world, finding out how things work. Duh, Mom. Get over it!

I will choose to extend the same grace, love and forgiveness to myself that I try to lavish on my husband and children each day.
Jackson has a great routine. He knows what to expect in his day and roughly when and how, and it gives him security so he can learn and grow. Max is not so lucky. I feel like I'm cheating him out of this because our life doesn't allow for three consistent naps and a consistent bed time. In fact, life isn't even allowing for any kind of sleeping routine like reading before he goes down, because the window to get him down is so small we just have to get to it. But he's happy, he's learning, and he's growing. It's not a coincidence. It's because of all the other constants - breastfeeding, bedsharing, ECing, interacting - that provide security just the same. I can let myself off the hook for this one. Someday when we aren't juggling as many naps, we will start a routine. It's never too late. And he won't be illiterate if I don't read to him four times a day before he sleeps.

Day 1: And So It Begins

What started as somewhat of a tongue-in-cheek facebook status became a personal challenge thanks to the also somewhat humorous encouragement of my favorite (albeit only) French friend.

I don't usually indulge in pointless resolutions that I should've tackled long before the new year and am bound to break within the first week. But 2010 was a helluva ride, so it seems fitting to start 2011 with fresh resolve to move closer to the goals I always have for myself and my family...

I will choose to find a positive perspective under even the most negative circumstances. Day 1: Spilled bottle of wine is not a nuisance, but an opportunity to clean the fridge. 

I will choose acceptance over resistance. Day 1: Damn auto-start commercial that woke Max up when I tried to read an article was not my fault for opening the page or Nick's fault for leaving the volume on high. It is simply what happened and I can choose a positive or negative reaction to it. He will go back to sleep...sometime.

I will choose to focus on the things I value about my children, not the things that drive me nuts. Day 1: Cookbooks and crayons strewn all over the floor. I love that Jackson is so enamored with healthy cooking and eating. I love that he's creative and expanding his artistic abilities. I love that he's so type A that he would never color in a cookbook because that's not what crayons are for.

I will choose to extend the same grace, love and forgiveness to myself that I *try* to lavish on my husband and children each day. Day 1: Crayons and cookbooks on the floor annoyed the crap out of me. I remained calm and spoke quietly, but could have conveyed more love, respect and acceptance through my words. I am an imperfect person who makes mistakes. My failures give my children opportunities to learn resilience, to see me model repentance and reparation, to practice forgiveness, and to experience first-hand that my love is unconditional; no matter how I feel, how they feel, or how either of us chooses to act on those feelings, they learn to trust that love is constant and unchanging in our relationship.

So here I am on a personal mission to continue documenting my progress toward these goals for at least the next 365 days. And here's hoping most days are as light-hearted and successful as Day 1. Don't hold your breath!