Day 115: Parched

When I step back and take a look at my life, I'm overwhelmed with gratitude and humbled by all I have that I've done nothing to deserve. In my real-life Prince Charming and two boys who could not be any more beautiful inside or out I find daily evidence of God's infinite grace and mercy, proof that on my own I could never be worthy of the blessings that flow freely from His hands.

And when those realizations come, they carry with them a reminder of how spiritually dry my life is right now.

Once upon a time we were part of a church community - one that was authentic, inspiring, and challenging. But the busier life got, the more commitment faded. Eventually Jackson became too talkative for the service and unable to be separated from me in the toddler room, and the final nail was in the coffin. It has now been about a year and a half since we've been back. And if feels like it.

Not that a weekly church service is a spiritual prerequisite, but without it, I've found it far too easy to let my other relationships and responsibilities crowd out my most important relationship - the one that, if at the center, elevates all the rest with it.

I feel more ready and open for connection with God than I've ever been thanks to all the other growth I've been undertaking. I think this is because spirituality permeates all aspects of life, and because the expansion of my worldview has stretched me in ways that allow me to see God in places I never knew He was before.

I'm sure some read posts on energy, unconditionality, the mind-body connection or intuition and think "New Age" (ahhhh, run for the hills, Christians!). But I see God's incredible physical and spiritual human design in these things. He made us energetically interactive beings, our intuition is a guiding gift from Him, it was He who interconnected our physical and emotional states, and the unconditionality of life only exists because of His sacrifice that allows us to experience freedom. What a shame to miss out on these dimensions of life that He intended for us to experience, utilize, and enjoy! If you gave someone a Swiss Army knife for Christmas, wouldn't you want them to use more than just the tiny, nearly-useless scissors?

So now that my eyes have been opened to the can opener, the screwdriver, the blades, and even the nail file, I find myself wandering alone in a spiritual desert. Those who share my foundational spiritual beliefs reject much of my philosophy and theology (which, by the way, are essential to my foundational spiritual beliefs!). And vice versa, those who share my philosophical beliefs often differ significantly in the spiritual realm. And in particular, a similar view of respectful, loving discipline is hard to find among Christian parents. (A post on that later!)
 
But I'm committed to finding my way back to center, back to the love that is the root and reason for it all. And to do that, I'll need to live in community with like-minded people. I'm a part of this amazing holistic parenting community that has been so instrumental in my mothering journey, and I need to dive back into a church community to foster the same growth in my spiritual life.

My hope is that the community we left behind is one that will embrace us again, new ideas and all. But whether we find our home in the familiar or new, I'm feeling ready and drawn to search. And this is reassurance that now is the right time. Not last year, not last month, but now. Acceptance and forward motion: two more blessings I couldn't live without!

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 93: Circling the Drain

I'm painfully aware of most of the things in my life that could stand a little improvement. If only knowing were enough. But then I wouldn't be here writing, and you wouldn't be here reading because we'd never struggle with ourselves or our kids.

So here I am reminding myself yet again that I set the tone of our home. Let's repeat it once more for the sake of emphasis: I set the tone.

The way I approach our communication, our relationship and our schedule determines the manner in which my children respond. Not in specific words or deeds, but in energy.

Some days I throw pleases and thank yous at Jackson in a disrespectful way, and other days I forgo "manners" and speak kindly even if the so-called polite words aren't used. I may choose to sacrifice an errand so that he can play, but do so with resentment or I can prioritize the to-do list with respect and cooperation.

The bottom line is this: Our day spirals down the drain when his needs - usually for respect, attention, love, or acceptance - go unmet and he's forced to take more drastic measures to make them known.

Labeling his behavior as "naughty" (if I hear one more parent call their kid this word when we're out I think I'm going to start publicly ranting) would nicely lift the burden of responsibility off my shoulders and rest it on his, but leave us continually spiraling downward.

When I see him as an adversary, as something standing in my way when I want to accomplish a task or get somewhere on time, it inevitably blows up in my face; he becomes more adversarial as he feeds off my energy and seeks my attention where he knows he'll find it that day. When I treat him like an inconvenience, he becomes more purposefully inconvenient to show me how much he needs me.

And thankfully it goes both ways. When I treat him as an active participant in our day, he rises to the occasion and finds ways for us to cooperatively get all our needs met. When I honor the equal importance of his tasks, he bends with me so that we can both feel satisfied with the outcome. 

So I'll choose to accept responsibility for our "bad" days - tough to swallow for a person who's nature is to place blame! And I'll do my best to refocus my energy in a positive way - no small task when my default is no, can't, and won't!

I don't know if I'll always struggle to live according to my conscious beliefs rather than these defaults, if I'll spend my life re-learning the same lessons - what I know about brain development and windows of opportunity tell me I will, but what I know of the transformative power of spirituality and love tell me otherwise. What I can say for sure is that there's no endpoint on a journey of personal growth. So whether I spend a year, a decade or a lifetime on these issues, what matters most is that I show up.

Day 75: Stranger Danger

My danger seeker ironically also happens to be my stranger danger baby.

With few exceptions, most family and friends get a look of terror, the world's cutest quivering lip and waterworks, sometimes even when he's in my arms. Of course he eventually warms up, but the initial interaction is nearly always challenging for him. If you've interacted with him and haven't experienced this, you're one of the special few whose energy must really put him at ease from the start.

Jackson never went through a phase like this, so I'm learning as we go. It's no stretch to accept that he wants to stay with me, but somehow the small part of me that's socially trained to think "polite" means compromising yourself to make sure no one ever feels uncomfortable still exists, and it stirs up a compulsive need to apologize or make excuses for him, sometimes even try to coax him into warming up before he's ready.

It seems so minor to us because our established relationships tell us there's nothing to be scared of, but to him it's clearly a major emotional upheaval and should be honored as such. So he's giving me lots of great opportunities to practice kind authenticity.

There is a "nice" way to honor his feelings and advocate for him. Although whether or not it's received as polite is up to the person involved, I suppose. But since a big part of how it's received has to do with whether it comes from a place of acceptance or resistance, I have a pretty significant say in the matter.

Am I focused on resisting a person's desire to take him from me or interact too soon? Or am I putting my energy into accepting his need for security and time to get reacquainted? The latter puts everyone at ease, especially him, so I'm working to stay present during these chaotic interactions instead of slipping into default and choosing the former.

I want to send Max a clear message that his feelings are valid and simultaneously show him that the person we're with and the environment we're in are safe. With a little practice, and a little patience from our family, I think we're getting there.

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 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 41: Setting the Tone

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 woke up on the wrong side of the bed today. Max, who usually doesn't require me to lift my head off my pillow at night, needed a 4am potty break. Then again at 7am at which point he decided he wasn't going back to sleep. Beyond the fact that I was tired, I was irritated that his plan to start the day didn't align with mine. I was already envisioning all the yelling I was going to hear from a tired baby and how I wasn't going to be able to take it. Talk about setting everyone up for failure! And wouldn't you know, our morning nap - if you can even call it a nap - was a huge struggle.

When Jack woke at 7:30am I was resentful because I wasn't ready to take on the day yet. Of course these feelings of preemptive resistance were only self-fulfilling. I had an appointment to pick up some goat's milk nearby, and decided I needed to go alone. And although Daddy being home usually trumps me, today my leaving was the end of his world. He could feel me pushing him away and it made him need me that much more. Eventually we worked through it and I headed out.

The chance to get away for a short while gave me a much needed opportunity to breathe, but I couldn't shake it all off. The rest of our day was a roller coaster. One minute I'd breathe through it and respond calmly to him, the next I'd raise my voice and get disrespectful with him. I just couldn't give myself to him without resentment today, and being the sensitive and perceptive little man that he is, he felt every bit of it. It's really hard being Mom to a kid like this, but thankfully it forces me to be real with myself and him.

Before his nap I told him when he woke up I would put all my work away for the night and focus on him. And we did have a really fun hour of playtime before Max got up. In that hour I was open and available, I was engaged and playful instead of distracted or setting limits, and there wasn't a moment of conflict. Once Max joined us and responsibilities arose - cooking supper, keeping the laundry going, getting him to the potty - the fun was over. Max would yell and he would lose it. He wanted to nurse while supper was cooking. One of his toys wouldn't balance like he wanted and he was a puddle.

A few times I yelled over him to get his attention, which of course heightened his anxiety and made things worse. Other times I spoke calmly, bent down, touched him and connected, and voila, my self-regulating helper showed up to bring Max a book and pat his head to stop the yelling. 

I see it every. single. day. What I resist, I create. And yet I still fight with myself. I'm constantly engaged in an internal power struggle and it colors the rest of my world in conflict because that energy is what my children live by. I'll write it again because it's that important: My energy is what my children live by. When I walk into a room, they know exactly how I feel before I open my mouth or touch them, and they feel what I feel. Too many days it's something I don't want them to have to feel.

I feel like I'm captive to my defaults, to resistance and pessimism, but this isn't the truth. The truth is that I am free. Free to find joy in my life and in my children. That freedom doesn't change when circumstances change. It doesn't change when moods change. At every moment of every day, I am free. This is a concept I want to flesh out in another post tomorrow. But for tonight, these are the words I will sleep on: I am free.

Day 39: Respectfully Annoyed

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.

Before I had kids, I dreamed of vacationing on a Mexican beach, sipping mai tais and relaxing while my pre-baby body soaked up the sun. Now I fantasize about sitting alone in a quiet room for an hour. Oddly, I made the beach dream a reality more times than I've been blessed with the quiet room in the past two years. Perhaps this explains the short road to annoyance. But in any case, it's forcing me to look at an aspect of my communication skills that need a little polishing. Okay, this project may be about being kind to myself, but it's also about being authentic, so let's be honest: I'm not polishing, I'm developing this skill from scratch because it's sorely lacking.

Sometimes, no matter how much you love someone, they can be downright annoying. This is especially true when that someone is two years old. We've recently entered a persistent stage where names must be repeated over and over before a sentence can be uttered, and questions, regardless of the fact that they've already been answered, must also be repeated a minimum of four times. This is enough to drive me flippin' nuts. But of course I don't want to really drive home the message "You're annoying!" and make him carry that around, so what's a mom to do? 

The mainstream approach to this would be to try to hide the fact that I'm annoyed; pretend those feelings aren't there, shove them down, or coat them in other forced feelings that aren't really feelings at all because you're not feeling them. Not only am I too intense to be capable of these things, but doing so would model disingenuousness. The energy tied to our emotions is something people feel, not something they hear us say, and children are more in touch with energy than anyone. When we try to hide feelings, deny them, or name them something other than what they are, we either send the message that the true feeling, the one they can sense but we won't admit, isn't okay to feel, or we leave them confused because what they know (the energy they feel) and what we tell them (the mislabeling or denial of the feeling) are incongruous.

So if my approach, both by default and by philosophical choice, is to be authentic with these feelings, I have to do it responsibly. Here's where the communication skills are falling short.

As I made supper, Jackson was asking the usual questions: What are you doing? Can I see? Why are you doing that? How does that work? And on and on. Finally he came to his favorite, "Can I help?" In this case, there was a large, sharp knife involved in the project, so I explained why he couldn't. He understood, but didn't want to accept it, so he proceeded to ask me again and again. I hit my limit by the fourth or fifth time and finally shouted, "Jackson, I already told you no. Stop asking!" To which he replied, "Mommy, you should talk to Jackson more respectfully." Face meet palm.

It's okay to be annoyed by annoying behavior. I'm only human. But it's not okay to let that annoyance drive me to treat him with less love and less respect. Instead of being reactive, I can work on communicating purposefully. I can communicate annoyance respectfully just like I can joy, anger, love, and sadness. The emotions change, but the communication doesn't have to. And while I'm developing this skill, I can rest easy knowing that I've given him the confidence and tools he needs to stand up to my reactivity and even help me through it.

Day 32: I'm on to You

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.

Simply put, I've been stooping to manipulation lately. Like anything else, it crept in slowly under the guise of something positive and went unnoticed until finally I reflected on some of our interactions and thought, "Did I just say that? How'd we get here?" 

My goal is always to avoid arbitrary punishment that uses fear and emotional pain to control behavior in favor of allowing natural consequences that teach self-regulation. Following this, most of our discipline-related communication is structured in an "if, then" way: "If you choose to take CDs out of the cases, then I have to put them away to keep them from breaking." Or "If you choose to get up out of your chair at dinner, then you have to sit at the big table instead of your little table to help you keep your body still."

But "if, then" began to morph into manipulation, eventually verging on arbitrary punishment: "If you don't get your jacket on now, we can't bring our library books home." Okay, not so bad. It's kind of true that we might run out of time to check out books, but I was definitely grasping at a way to make him do what I wanted. "If you don't eat your supper, then we'll go straight to bedtime." Yes, it's the next thing in the sequence of our day, but does not spending that time eating mean he forfeits all pre-bed time? After all, he doesn't have to go straight to bed the nights that he finishes his supper early. "If you're too full to eat supper, you're too full to nurse at bedtime." This one pains me. I never wanted to taint our nursing relationship by making it a bargaining chip, but somehow I let it happen. And the fact that I made nursing about the milk, the very least important aspect of it, is very disappointing. Hopefully he won't take that message to heart. "If you rest your body for 10 more minutes, then you can watch Lady and the Tramp when you wake up." Alright, I've outed myself. There's officially no connection between nap and DVD. I was dangling a carrot out in front of the mule with this one to buy myself a few more minutes to get some work done. The best part is that it backfired on me because he chose not to rest his body, which meant no DVD and less time for me to work!

It wasn't long before he caught on to me; partly because he's such a bright kid and partly because the way I was presenting it, especially the resistant energy I was projecting (choose this or else!), gave me away. He called me out by refusing to be manipulated, choosing to forgo the thing he wanted just to make a point.

Making a child into a puppet seems appealing in the short term. Whose life wouldn't be easier with a child that does as told when told. But parents only get to be behind those strings for so long; eventually someone else, someone you don't get to choose, becomes the puppeteer, and the results are almost always disastrous. I love that he has a strong will and resists my attempts at control. This is an important guiding post for me, and it's going to be such a valuable trait in his future, one that I don't want to take away from him to make my life more convenient in the present.

 The amount of time required to parent in a positive way is overwhelming. The energy required to stay present with all  our interactions is exhausting. And gratification is almost always delayed, sometimes for years. This means that losing focus, sidestepping, and even heading off course are going to happen. But the road to a healthy relationship and an emotionally healthy child is always right where I left it. There's always an opportunity to learn from these experiences and get back on course.

Day 30: A Better Day...Sort Of

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.

After sleeping on our fiasco from yesterday, I feel much better. I woke up with new resolve to find joy in our day no matter the circumstances. And whether it was the attitude adjustment or my body finally recovering from the weekend food splurge, the exhaustion and resistance I woke with yesterday were gone.

Circumstances today have proved to actually be very similar to yesterday, so why is it a better day? Because I decided it would be. It's that simple, and I am that much in control of how our days go. We had a baby wearing meeting this morning, and getting out of the house was as much of a struggle as yesterday. But instead of rushing, reprimanding and ignoring Jackson's needs, I chose to work with him.

He ran away when I said it was time to go potty (a requirement before we can leave the house), but I chose not to take it personally, not to see it as disrespect but as a way of communicating. Instead of trying to change his behavior from the outside with demands, I told him we were going to get goat's yogurt at the coop before our meeting, knowing that would motivate him internally. No potty meant no yogurt, and his love of yogurt won out. I had to remind him three more times as we were getting bundled up, and each time he chose yogurt. Handling it this way made me feel less pressure and anxiety, made him feel in control of his choice to go potty and get his jacket on, and saved us from a power struggle.

Our trip to the coop was pleasant, and he only needed a few reminders of how capable he was of staying close and keeping his hands on his mini-cart, much like last time. When we got to the library for our meeting, I let him run free for a few minutes, then tried to herd him to the meeting room. We teetered on the edge of a tantrum because he wanted to have the "earmuffs" (headphones connected to the computer), but I kept reminding him, "Talk first. Talk first." This is something we've been working on for a few months - talking first before he reacts to me or a peer, whether that means yelling, grabbing, or running away. A gentle reminder that the librarian doesn't allow yelling was enough to calm him down, and he decided it would be okay to try the earmuffs after our meeting was over.

After our meeting and "earmuff" time, we checked out our books and headed for the door. Again, a tantrum loomed as I tried to help him with his jacket. We went over the quiet rule and "talk first" again, then spent at least 5 minutes (which seemed like 30) discussing the things he wanted to do: read his new French book, listen to his French CD, watch his German and Spanish DVDs, make sushi rolls for lunch. Finally when he wasn't feeling resistance from me (which was probably still a surprise to him after yesterday), his own resistance faded and he happily put on his jacket because home was the place we could do all those things.

It takes time - a lot of time - to communicate this way and to involve him in every step of our day. I can choose to put my time and energy into him this way, knowing that the result is a happier, more confident little boy and a power struggle-free day, or I can allow time and energy to be drained from all of us by the negativity that results when a day is imposed on him.

It's a pretty easy choice when I look at the big picture, but some days, like yesterday, I get lazy and forget. I'm so glad he doesn't allow me to stay there. And I'm so proud that I've raised him to be confident enough to show me and even tell me when I've stepped away from where he and I both know we should be. He reacts the way he did yesterday because I've shown him that he deserves to be treated with respect, that he doesn't have to allow anyone, even me, to treat him in a way that isn't loving and kind. That's a huge victory, and the bright side I was missing last night.

Day 28: Husband...What Husband?

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.
  
Jackson seems to be revisiting the climbing and home exploration stage. He's been traveling the house with his chair as a step stool, getting into anything he can safely assume is off-limits. Last night's project was to retrieve candles - our unity candle and the two taper candles used to light it at our wedding - from the living room shelf. The activity that followed was drenched in symbolism, so much so that all I could do was smile, take a picture, and write about it.

We had a few child-free friends over, and Jackson was enjoying moving into the room to share the pretend coffee he had made, then out when he'd had enough commotion for a little while. During one of his excursions away from the group, he grabbed the candle unnoticed. When he re-entered, candle in hand, he was quite excited about this new treasure he had found. I weighed the joy he was getting out of it, the time it would take to talk through putting it back, and the fact that it was a fifty cent candle from a craft store. I explained that if he bonked it on things it would break, then let him go ahead and play with it. Needless to say, the candle ended up broken in several places.

My husband apparently thought that this was no reason to get rid of the candle, so it made its way back to its holder where I noticed it this morning. Although in his defense I'm sure he was just scared that throwing away something from our wedding would be met with disapproval. 

This picture couldn't be more fitting: The carefree engagement pictures pushed to the side and our broken wedding candle in the background with Jackson front and center. A picture really is worth a thousand words!

I never thought I'd be the mom consumed by her children. I was so madly in love with my husband that there was no way anyone could take his place. Then I actually became a mom. I found out that I was biologically programmed to fall hopelessly in love with this little person who, though a product of our loving marriage, threatened to intrude on it. I found out that this tiny being needed me so intensely, and rewarded me so wonderfully when I responded to those needs that caring for him became my sole focus. I found out it wasn't as simple as I had thought it would be to prioritize my marriage over motherhood.

Two years and another baby later, I'm still madly in love with my husband - and still struggling to put us first. He can feed himself, clothe himself, bathe himself, even go potty on his own. He doesn't need me like they do. But that doesn't mean he doesn't need me.

Ultimately, there's nothing my children need more than to be part of a loving, secure family, and our marriage is what provides them that. By loving my husband, I'm loving my children, and by prioritizing our marriage, I'm meeting their needs and ours. This is hard to remember and even harder to put into practice, especially when I already feel like there's not enough of me to go around for just the two kids! But I know that being connected to my husband energizes me and makes us a better team, so expending energy on him comes back to me (and the whole family) ten-fold in the end.

So I will plan date nights; Max will survive a few hours without me. I will greet him with enthusiasm when he comes home, no matter how long and hard my day has been. And I will stop dominating our conversations with kid-talk so that we can connect on other non-parent levels. He's every woman's dream and for some reason he chose to be with me. The least I can do is love him well in return.

Day 23: You Say Weak, I Say Strong

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.

Moms spend a lot of time thinking about energy (remember when I had some?), talking about energy (or lack thereof), and experiencing the effects of energy (too much or too little) in our children. But this is generally a one-dimensional look at a profoundly multi-dimensional entity. I am slowly learning to look past the surface to recognize, appreciate and utilize the other aspects of energy.

Our trip to see Amanda Alvord at The Natural Source for EDS was supposed to be straight forward. We were simply looking for a definitive answer about a sensitivity to casein. We got that answer, but also much more.

She greeted us in the lobby, got some toys for Jackson and brought us to her office. She was in Jackson's presence for two minutes at best and had only exchanged a few words with him when she told me, "He has an Earth energy." She went on to explain who he is at the deepest level. All the things I've spent two years learning about him, she knew instantly.

She talked about him seeing the world as connected, seeing the oneness of things, and how this quality made separation a challenging experience for him. This couldn't be more true. He is the most naturally inclusive little being I've ever encountered. He always wants our whole family together and has a hard time understanding why sometimes one of us has to be gone to work or meetings. It's like his world isn't right until all four of us are under the same roof.

She said because of this connectedness, he's extremely sensitive - even has difficulty separating his own emotions from those of the people around him. And if you've ever been in a room with him you know how dead on this is! Everywhere we go he talks about how people are feeling. If there's a baby crying at the mall, his face falls serious and he says, "Mommy, that baby is sad." If he hears people in another aisle laughing, he lights up and says, "Mommy they feel happy!" When we're at school and a mom isn't responding to her child's cry, he looks frantically between the two, trying to figure out why she's not helping and what he can do. Of course being sensitive means he's also very tuned in to his own emotions, and being the chatter box that he is always talking about how he feels.

She also told us that this Earth energy meant that to feel good and be balanced and healthy he needed to be surrounded by...well, earth. He needs to be outdoors, playing in the dirt and soaking up sun. She specifically mentioned that playing with rocks is an important thing for keeping him balanced. And wouldn't you know, all summer long he played in the neighbors rock bed. It makes so much sense that he's unbalanced right now since he's cooped up away from all these things that bring him peace and well-being.

Reaffirming these things about him was really helpful. To hear it from an outside source confirmed that I do know who he is and what he needs, and gave me a way to focus on that more intently. But the most important thing she did was to validate my view of him: The things that everyone else sees as Jackson's weaknesses, I see as his strengths.


He's not "too sensitive." The fact that he's into animals and flowers instead of trucks and superheros doesn't make him less of a boy. Engaging in creative play - cooking, cleaning, being Max the bunny, and even being Cinderella in her glass slippers - instead of roughhousing doesn't make him weak. These are the things that make him intelligent, compassionate, empathic and kind. These are the things that are going to make him a spectacular husband and father. These are the things I will help him develop, not squelch to mold him into some one-dimensional definition of "boy."

Day 15: You Can Lead a Baby to a Cozy Bed...

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.
  
...but you definitely can't make him sleep! 

Maxwell's poo strikes again. Usually I can get Max to sleep just before I put Jackson down for his nap. It provides me with 30-90 minutes of uninterrupted time, which, as my fellow stay/work at home moms know, equates to about 6 hours of kid-present time in terms of getting things done. And today the list of "have-to's" is long, so what better day to struggle with naps! 

After a couple potty opportunities, he wouldn't fall asleep while I was reading. He wouldn't fall asleep nursing on the bed. He wouldn't fall asleep with a pacifier. Are we seeing a trend? His eyelids were heavy and he clearly wanted to, but he couldn't fall asleep. It was interrupting my usual one-on-one time with Jackson, stirring up those it-will-be-like-this-forever feelings, and just downright annoying me. I never stopped to think about how frustrating it must be for him.

I finally just let him fuss for a few minutes so I could finish getting Jackson down. (Don't worry, he was just complaining, not crying; it's more like he's reprimanding me than anything - won't that be fun as he gets older!) We tried the potty again to no avail, and we tried to sleep again, also to no avail. The more I tried to make things the way I wanted them to be instead of the way they were, the more frustrated I got. So I quit! 

I let it go and accepted "what is." I got him up and he played on the floor next to me while I worked. I got all sorts of smiles and giggles, and I got to watch him try out all his new spinning, scooting, grabbing, and push-up skills. It actually made my day. And lo and behold, after 40 minutes of playing, he was ready to poo...and sleep! Boy did this all feel better than resistance.

I'd love to say that this is where the story moved on to me getting loads of work done. But, without exaggeration, the moment Max fell asleep, Jackson woke up crying (something I suspect will continue to happen as the candida die-off makes things worse before they get better). I stood and whispered, "No. No. No! This can't be." And I had to take a full minute to get myself to a place where I could walk into his room without resentment - thinking about him and his needs, rather that me and my list. 

I've never before been successful at getting him back down once he's awake, but today we nursed, cuddled and compromised on letting him "rest" with a pillow and blanket on the rocking chair. Over an hour later and he's still asleep!  

I know all of us are exhausted and on-edge from the anti-candida process, and I'm proud of myself and them for finding ways to make it manageable today. I'm looking forward to the near-future when my no longer refluxy, gassy, and fatigued children can sleep the way we all want them to. Law of Attraction, right?

Day 11: Life is a Roller Coaster

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.

Today's post will be short. It's the end of another long day and my options are putting my energy into hashing over a less than successful day or spending time with Max and my husband. I think it's a no-brainer. 

Let's just say Jackson spent the day marking his territory around the house. He peed in his chair at breakfast, on a pillow he was sitting on in his playroom, in his pants while we were both standing right by the bathroom. He's going much more frequently recently, so I'm not prompting him often enough. And I can't for the life of me figure out if he's also getting surprised by how often he needs to go or if he's just choosing not to tell me because he doesn't want to stop eating or playing to go to the bathroom. When I asked him why he didn't go to the potty he said, "Because you didn't ask me." 

I was able to respond patiently at first, but the more times it happened, the more irritated I got. So much for do-overs and a fresh perspective at each interaction! Part of my inner monologue is usually: "You're the adult!" Today, I would have done well to remember that one. He's 2 and he needs help. Instead of help, I gave him unrealistic expectations and frustration. At one point I even yelled, "I told you to go to the potty when you needed to! Why are you peeing on everything?!" 

When it comes down to it, I think he just needs help. He doesn't have the impulse control or cognitive skills to reason through leaving his toys or his meal for something he doesn't want to do. I'm convinced we only made it through dry meals and playtime the past six months because he didn't have to go so often and the times I was prompting were enough. So it's not his abilities that have changed, it's my ability to see his need and help him. I'm ashamed to say I was angry with him when it was my own fault, but that's the truth. 

The slate is washed clean with acknowledgment, apology and forgiveness and the positive spin is that I can move forward with this new understanding of his needs and my responsibility to make sure we don't have another day like today.

Day 9: Chaos Strikes Again

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.

*sigh* We had our first major default since I started this project. It was ugly. And a great reminder of why I'm doing this. It has happened before, and it will likely happen again, but I feel more aware, more in control, and more capable of turning the bus around once we've started the wrong way down Positive Parenting Drive (it's a one-way street, you know). What would have usually ended up in a head-on collision was reeled in soon enough that I walked away with only a moving violation.

It had been a loooooong tough day. Jackson woke up crying because he was "sad that Daddy isn't here." All day we tried to talk through it, but he was struggling to transition from Daddy's full attention all weekend to Daddy gone at work all day. Understandable since Daddy's a pretty awesome guy. Our ongoing conversation went about like this:
Jackson: I'm sad because Daddy left.
Mommy: Why does Daddy have to go to work?
Jackson: To provide for us so we have a warm house and clothes and food.
Mommy: That's right. Does Daddy always come back?
Jackson: Yes. Daddy's coming at supper time.
Mommy: Daddy wishes he could be home now, but he'll come as soon as he can.
A few minutes elapse...
Jackson: I'm angry that Daddy left.
Mommy: Why does Daddy have to go to work?
Jackson: I don't want Daddy to provide for us.
Mommy: Does Daddy always come back?
Jackson: No. He doesn't. Daddy doesn't wish he was here. He won't be home soon.
Mommy realizes we're hitting a wall and further communication will be of no use.

You can imagine how the rest of the day went with a child who simply feels sad and angry about something neither of us (nor Daddy) can change. We couldn't reason this one away, he just had to feel it. I tried to distract him with his favorite activities, but when even playing in the sink isn't enough to bring the day out of the gutter, you can pretty much resign yourself to a tough day.

There was a pretty much a constant struggle between the two of us - he didn't want to do anything I asked, he didn't want to do anything else, he even peed in his pants three times because he wouldn't even go to the bathroom. Everything was just wrong in his world. I maintained composure all morning, even managed to accept his nap that was under an hour without getting upset, but by the end of the day he had worn me down.

We got home late from a grocery trip that shouldn't have taken so long (I can't wrap my head around how long everything takes when I'm carting two kids around by myself!). I was stressed over how late we were going to be getting to our supper, so I felt a little frantic as I put away groceries and started cooking. Max was in the exersaucer in the kitchen yelling (my baby doesn't cry, he literally yells at me when I'm not performing to his satisfaction), alerting me to the fact that he needed a nap and adding to the pressure I was feeling. Sound chaotic? It sure felt that way!

Jackson always picks up on my energy, and he's always profoundly affected by it. He started in complaining about Daddy again, and incessantly asking for things he knew he couldn't have (scissors, dates that are for dessert, to nurse while I was cooking). I was too involved in the whirlwind around me to look through to the deeper need he was expressing. I took these things at face value and denied him with no "yes" to counteract the fury that "no" can bring. Before I knew it, he was taking his shirt off (mind you he had already been pantless because of the three prior pant-peeing episodes) and crying in nothing but his socks because he wanted his shirt back on. Again, I failed to see through to the deeper need and simply told him he needed to "live with his choice" because I couldn't stop in the middle of what I was doing (which, by the way, was taking out the garbage - more important than my 2 year old's need for my attention and affection? I think not).

I had left him with no choice. He had to take even more drastic measures to get my attention. So he grabbed for the dates on the counter. I stopped him, moved them back and explained he could have them after supper. He grabbed them again, and I repeated, all the while with Max yelling (at me), the pan sizzling away, the groceries not yet fully put away, and the music that Jackson requested on. CHAOS! I can't take anymore chaos! He grabbed them one more time and when I stopped his hand he yelled "NO! NO! NO!"

So did I come down to his level, talk to him, sit with him...Nope. I yelled louder. "Enough! That's enough! Just stop! Pick that up!" pointing to the date that had fallen on the floor. As you can guess, this didn't lead to peace. It didn't lead to anyone feeling heard. It didn't lead to anyone feeling loved. It didn't even lead to "better behavior." What it did lead to was hurt feelings, more crying and complaining, and a whole lot of mommy guilt.

Once Nick got home, Max was put down, and peace was restored to our home I was able to once again model repentance while he practiced forgiveness. We talked about his feelings, his needs that weren't being met, my needs, and my feelings. We talked about why it happened and how it should have happened instead. We will leave it in the past and we will try to do better the next time chaos hits. Tomorrow is a new day. I guess we can't win 'em all...

Day 8: Crisis Averted

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.

Remember that pizza I mentioned last week? It's still kicking our butts. Max has had terrible reflux and gas. His tummy hurts, he's got milk coming back up (thankfully not out!) almost constantly, he doesn't poo often enough, and he hasn't slept for more than 30 minutes on his own (thank god for bedsharing because he will sleep at night with me next to him). My usually content and perma-happy baby has been fussy, tired and frustrated for a week, leaving me...well...fussy, tired and frustrated. Note to self: Next time you try to convince yourself it won't be that bad, read this. 

So I guess this was the perfect week to start focusing more intently on these goals! I had worked for 15 minutes to help him fall asleep, and as soon as I had gotten into one of the many items on the to-do list, sure enough he was up and fussing.

I. Was. Done. I had hit the end of my rope and I was angry. Of course it wasn't his fault, he wants to sleep as much as I want him to sleep. So I wasn't angry at him, I was angry at the circumstances. But I guess that distinction doesn't matter one bit when it's the people around you who get hit with the anger anyway!

Best case scenario would have been to simply accept the circumstances. I missed the mark a little on that one, but I did handle the anger pretty well. I stood outside the room for a moment, did an internal scream, muttered a few less than kid-friendly words under my breath, then caught myself. I could give those feelings control over me or I could rein them in and take conscious control of myself.

Here's the usual internal monologue when I default: "I can't take this anymore. I've had it. He's never going to sleep again. I can't ever get anything done. And the old stand by, This Sucks!"

But here's the internal monologue I chose this time: "I can do this! This is not the end of the world. He will go back down, and if he doesn't we will find a way for him to be with me while I work. It will be okay. This is where we're at, so I might as well make the best of it!" I took a few deep breaths, repeated these things to myself and walked in with a smile. I had actually talked myself down from the ledge, which is amazing since I tend to resist even my own efforts. It felt great to choose to feel great despite the circumstances.

I nursed Max back to sleep and got back to my task. I'll never know for sure, but I'm willing to bet that if I had taken that angry energy into the room instead of the calm I finally came to, we would have had a very different outcome. Baby steps in the right direction.

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.

The Real About Me

Mothering is a daily adventure into uncharted territory. No one else has ever parented these children in this stage in this mood under these circumstances. Consequently, no one has the answers to any of our daily struggles - trust me, I've looked everywhere. It's like we're all playing a game with an opponent who gets to change the rules at will...without telling anyone.

I don't have the answers for anyone else, much less for myself, but I do know this: We're ALL struggling. And none of us are talking about it.

The Perfect Mom you see at the grocery store with the polite children in matching outfits, her hair styled and nails neatly manicured - she's a figment of your imagination. She has bad days, pajama and bedhead days, temper tantrum days, exhausted and frustrated days, even yelling and shaming days. I guarantee it. How do I know? Because I've been told I'm that mom. BAHahahahaha!!...Oh, sorry. Excuse the outburst. I've been told I look like I have it all together, like there's peace and harmony between me and my children, like I have a sense of calm about me...seriously.

But the truth is I'm just as much like the Real Mom at the grocery store, with the screaming kids knocking items off shelves, sweatpant-clad with food in her hair and fear in her eyes. We all have our good days and our bad days, triumphs and failures.

And in the end no matter how prepared we are, we're all winging it. We pick up tools as we go, learn by trial and error, and just pray everyone comes out on the other side in tact. I'm convinced that if we, as mothers, can start showing our authentic, imperfect selves to each other, we would find that the understanding, support and collective wisdom we gain will bring us that much closer to our own version of Perfect Mom.

So here's my real About Me:

I'm a control freak. When I can't control my circumstances (read: my two year old's behavior) I get angry. When I get angry, I yell. When I yell, I feel guilty. When I feel guilty, I get angry at myself for losing control. The more out of control I feel, the more I try to control my circumstances...and so the ugly cycle continues. It takes every ounce of strength I have to prevent this from being a daily occurrence.

I'm a pessimist, a real-life Debby Downer. I have an uncanny ability to see and assume the worst in every situation. The end of the world happens daily for me. It takes all my energy to choose to see the world, and sometimes even the people I love, in a positive light.

I live in a black and white world. Every question should have an answer, and I want all the answers. I naturally value justice over compassion and understanding. My tendency is to value being "right" over all else. It takes everything in me to see the gray that covers nearly all of life, and to choose cooperation over competition.

Except in my very closest relationships, I'm not good at being real. I assume that opening myself up will bring negative judgment from others (hello again, pessimism, my old friend). I place a very high value on privacy, often at the expense of intimacy and all the growth, joy, and satisfaction that comes with it. Vulnerability is terrifying (especially when you expect to be ridiculed, judged or attacked!) so it's easier to pretend I have it all figured out and put together, no help needed. And, drum roll please...It takes everything I have to just be me - the good, the bad, and the ugly - in front of anyone.

That's a list of my defaults. But I'm also loving, dependable, passionate, intelligent, loyal, a good listener, warm, fun-loving, determined, never satisfied with 'good enough' for myself or the people I love, and never satisfied with living in default mode. Above all else, I'm a mom who loves her children more than life, and who would do literally anything for them...even start a blog reveling her failures and weaknesses in an attempt to find balance and a better life for them!

With this much of myself to overcome in a day to be who I truly believe I am underneath all the baggage that comes with 26 years of life, I don't have the energy to waste on constructing a perfect facade anymore. I'm choosing to free myself of that, and to put that energy into actually *being* all the things I look like I am from the outside. Buckle up...It's going to be a bumpy ride.