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 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 59: Yesterday's Explosion

This is a scary title on a parenting blog.

Right now you're thinking back to the time your child managed to mimic a toy chest explosion, spewing each and every item onto the floor. Or you're remembering a time when you or your child exploded in rage, grief or joy. Maybe it's conjuring up images of your child sick with the flu...enough said.

I can identify with those explosions, but the kind we experienced yesterday was of a different, much less messy kind. Jackson and I repeated two doses of the homeopathic Candida nosode. And like we often see with remedies, he went through a developmental explosion.

He's been interested in spelling since his second birthday, and in the past few weeks, he's taken a mild interest in the letter sounds. We read books about the "v" sound and others and about word building, and while he really enjoyed the books (in other words made me read them over and over), that was as far as it went.

The day he took the remedy, he came up with his first spontaneous use of a letter sound, "V. Vuh. Vere you go Daddy!" And while he wasn't quite right, it was clear the concept of how the letter, the sound and the word related had suddenly come alive to him. The fascinating thing was that we hadn't read any of those books in days.

Then last night, while I was working and paying much less attention to him than he or I wanted, he climbed up next to me on the couch and started looking at his letter puzzle. All of a sudden he was grabbing letters, most we'd never read a book or talked about, and relating their sounds to words. "S. Ssssss. Song! W. Wuh. Wow! M. Muh. Mouse!" And he kept it up all night long.

Little Scholar

This was also the first week in our parent-child class that he has chosen to do actions with the group during our singing circle time - usually he'll do them at home when it's the two of us singing, but just watch when we're at school.

Also new with this remedy are unprompted "I love yous" and "I missed yous" and tons of out-of-the-blue compliments: "Mommy, I like you just the way you are" (If that doesn't make your heart melt...!).

Of course you take the good with the bad, because an intensification of symptoms always precedes the healing. He's been dealing with fear of having things taken from him, wanting to nurse more often, struggling to respond rather than react (explode, if you will), and feeling overwhelmed and out of control for no (or little) apparent reason.

But it's beautiful to see these amazing developments come through all that chaos and to watch his body do what it was designed to do: move toward physical and emotional balance.

When we started this journey with eczema, what I wanted for him was physical healing - as fast as possible. Now that I see how this transformational process is affecting him inside as much as out, I welcome the long road. No quick fix would be worth sacrificing the whole mind and body healing he's experiencing.

Sometimes the long road seems...well, long. But it's like choosing between the freeway and the scenic route: Both can get you to the same destination, but taking the scenic route and enjoying the view means arriving calm, renewed, and with a fresh, broadened perspective instead of hurried, distracted, and with the same tunnel vision you started with.

Day 38: Intuition

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.

Our Holistic Moms Network meeting last night was on "food as medicine." Having done loads of nutritional research, especially in the past few weeks, I didn't expect anything to rock my world, but I ended up walking away with something really significant. She talked about bioindividuality - the concept that no one diet works for every human body - and touched on allowing the body to guide you to what it needs. She went on to explain how that intuition isn't accessible when we're in a toxic state from eating processed foods, pesticides, hormones, and everything else that comes along with the Western Diet. I can identify with this so powerfully right now as the detox diet is slowly changing my dietary intuition.

I'm a person to which moderation does not come naturally or easily - in anything. When I'm in, I'm all in. This intensity brings so many positive things to my life. Most relevant to this project, it allows me to love my children so fiercely that I'm willing to fight through the ways that same intensity can damage them. Most relevant to the topic of nutrition, it means that food has been a battleground my whole life.

I believe so completely in the healing power of real food, and most days that knowledge is what guides my food choices. But when I fall prey to the enticing false promise of satisfaction from harmful food-like products, I go overboard. Way overboard. The only time I've felt my body's intuition guiding me toward healthful choices was during my pregnancy with Max, which also, not coincidentally, was a time I felt more energetic, healthy, and peaceful than ever before. 

Looking back, I now know that this is because this longstanding candida overgrowth coupled with the toxicity that results from overindulgence in moments of weakness has smothered that intuition for over a decade. As I detox, I feel it returning. Instead of feeling satisfied by "fake" foods, I feel physically sick when I make a poor choice. Instead of shoveling too much in with no signal to stop or repercussion when I don't, I feel full and even ill when I surpass full. It's only a matter of time before that intuition is fully restored to the point that non-foods are no longer appealing. What a welcome change that will be!

All of this got me thinking about emotional toxicity and mothering intuition. I think the parallel is strong. Emotional toxicity can come from unhealthy relationships, damage from early life experiences, insufficient coping skills, overbearing advice from family and friends, and any number of other sources. We all carry some toxicity, but when we become overloaded, it clouds out our intuition. The feelings - in both body and mind - that are intended to guide us through life and relationships are replaced with externally prescribed shoulds, and can'ts or simply confusion.

The danger is that shoulds and can'ts, like food-like products, can look appealing even though they're damaging. And the more we internalize them, the more they crowd out intuition. As we detox by refusing to engage in toxic relationships or listen to toxic advice, by finding ways to heal ourselves, our mothering intuition returns. Eventually the wrong choices will simply feel wrong, maybe even make us feel sick, and clarity will replace confusion.

So I've decided to engage in a full body and mind detox. As I get more in touch with my body's intuition, I'll work on connecting more fully with my mothering intuition. Together these things will bring me closer to the kind of energy, health and peace I want to experience and be for myself and my family.

Day 20: Testing, Testing

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.

Tests have always been my thing. Multiple choice, fill in the blank, short answer, essay...you name it, I'll ace it because I love answers. A test has a perfectly defined beginning and end, and with the end comes a sense of accomplishment and completion. Just talking about it makes me nostalgic for my college days.

Well, school's over and testing has taken on a whole new meaning. In fact, I don't think it's even fair to call any part of life or parenting a "test" because there is no end and there are certainly no answers. My favorite thing about school has become my least favorite thing about parenting. I'd like to say I've been acing the tests coming my way recently, but I'm not sure what a passing grade looks like.

In the past few days, Jackson has been experiencing tantrums. This is new and so out of character for him that it's really quite traumatic for all of us. It's very clear that they're coming as a result of his body's detox process, but that doesn't make them any easier to deal with in the moment. It's obvious he's feeling out of control, confused and conflicted when it happens, and don't I know none of those feel good. He'll ask me to leave, then scream louder when I move toward the door and beg me to stay. He'll say he wants to be held, then when he gets into my arms, he'll fight his way out, screaming. His body and brain are just saying "no" to everything and all he wants to do is say "yes" and feel calm. If the test is helping him find a way to calm down, I'm failing

This has led us to his first public outbursts. For the first time, I'm the mom with the kid lying on the floor of the store. It feels worse than I imagined. When it happens, the whirlwind of thought going on in my head is dizzying. It's hard to focus and get a grip on myself or him. If the test is avoiding a public scene, I'm failing.

 I'm acutely aware of each person walking by and watching, and I even find myself saying things to him that I'm hoping they hear: "Jackson this isn't appropriate behavior in the store. I want you to be respectful of the other shoppers. Do you see all these people? Your yelling hurts their ears and your body is in the way." If the test is tuning out the world to focus on him and the need he's expressing, I'm failing.

As the stress builds and the desire to avoid external judgment squeezes down on me, I find it harder to be patient. I start to physically remove him, which only makes matters worse because a lack of control over his world is what caused the ruckus to begin with. If the test is helping him feel powerful and in control of himself, I'm failing.

Eventually I'm able to talk him down. Maybe we identify something he wants or wants to do, then draw the connection between leaving the store and getting there. Maybe I identify what he wanted in the first place and can accommodate that need or find a suitable substitute. If the test is stopping the tantrum, I fail because time was up before I could finish filling in the little circles.

But If the test is surviving and even loving him through the storm, I think I'll give myself a passing grade. If it's acknowledging and allowing him to express the extreme unrest and discomfort that are accompanying his body's healing process, I'm pretty sure I'd get the credits. And if it's standing strong against the temptation to use fear, shame, bribery or punishment to manipulate him, I think I am acing it.

I'm teaching him that I really do love him unconditionally. He's seeing first hand that he is secure, that nothing could ever make me abandon him. And, although his little brain might not process it to the full extent, I'm showing him that he matters to me more than the shopping, more than the passersby, more than our schedule, and more than my own feelings. Because let's face it, it's embarrassing. And it would be easy to prioritize that feeling over your child's need for acceptance and support through a tantrum.

I may not like this new kind of test, especially since no one has the answer key, but I'm doing my best to rise to the challenge of living in the answer-less world of parenting. In the end, it'll probably be my kids who get to hand down the grades, and I can only hope that the work I'm doing to build a healthy relationship with them now will pay off when that day comes.

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 13: The Bright Side of Thrush

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.


We look like a really healthy family. My kids have never been to doctor, have never had an infection, rarely even a cold. They're bright and happy - healthy, right?. But I have a different view of health. Health isn't the absence of illness, it's the body (physical, mental, and emotional) functioning in balance and at its full potential. By my standards we have not been fully healthy.

It all makes so much sense now. To borrow from Oprah (never thought I'd do that), I've had an Aha! moment. Every point of weakened health the boys and I have experienced leads us back to Candida. I believe this is our be-all, end-all.  

I always knew Jack's eczema was a result of not having enough beneficial bacterial flora to pass on to him during his pregnancy and birth, but I never thought about the obvious consequence of that: Candida. I knew that all three of us were sensitive to dairy because of insufficient flora lining the gut (aka leaky gut), but I never thought about the obvious implication: Candida. I knew my mood swings were not normal postpartum feelings (I'm a big-feelings Mom, but this was ridiculous!), but I blamed it on hormones anyway and never thought about the obvious alternative: Candida. I felt literally possessed by the ghost of cookie monster, unable to stop myself form eating any form of sugar in sight, but I never thought beyond my love of food to the obvious: Candida.  I knew the emotional distress I was seeing in Jackson from time to time was not normal for him or any kid - fear, bad dreams, insecurity about us leaving even though we never leave, fear of falling and downward motion - but I missed the glaringly obvious cause: Candida. I knew my boys' gassy bellies were not just "normal" for babies, but I never thought of the obvious: Candida. And this is just the tip of the iceberg.   

Side Note: For those interested in the science (like I am!) here's some explanation: It's always present in the body, and a healthy bacterial flora stays dominant, keeping candida under control. When that balance is thrown off, candida can take over and grow out of control systemically. It causes the gut to leak particles into the bloodstream leading to food sensitivities and disrupting normal digestion causing bloating and gas. It feeds on sugar, so it triggers intense cravings. As it continues to grow, it releases toxins that affect the brain causing a general fog, fatigue, and very specific emotional symptoms. 

I missed all of this and never put the big picture together until one bright red nipple showed up! I looked down the other night and thought, "Huh, that looks like thrush...(wait for it)...Holy Crap! We've all had Candida all along!" All of a sudden the neurons started firing (through the yeast toxins) and one thing after another fell into place. 

If I were to default, I might beat myself up over not recognizing this sooner. I might dwell on the fact that I made an irresponsible, uninformed choice to blindly follow my OB's advice and take an unnecessary, harmful round of antibiotics in my first trimester with Jackson. 

Instead I'm going to make a conscious choice to forgive myself. Jackson's pregnancy was a catalyst for the biggest life change I've ever undertaken. The mistakes I made drove me down a different path, and I am infinitely grateful for that. My values are different, my perspective is different, I'm informed and empowered. And none of that would have been possible without the mistakes along the way. 

We will kick Candida's ass and restore balance to our bodies, but those lessons we learned along the way will stay with us forever. I will choose to focus on that, not on the past or the difficult road we have ahead of us to tackle this.

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 4: Really Seeing, Really Hearing

I will choose to find a positive perspective under even the most negative circumstances.
Jackson has struggled with eczema since the first months of his life. We resisted the urge to treat the symptom, and instead took him to a homeopath to address the underlying issue. Doing this is an exercise in patience and faith because there's rarely immediate relief, and sometimes even a worsening before improvement. But in the big picture, we do see significant healing, inside and out.

Researching is like a drug for me (I like to have all the answers, you know!), so like I always do before any decisions are made in our home, I dove into homeopathy head first. I emerged with a greater understanding of mind/body connectedness and just how incredibly important it is to health and happiness. It was one more step out of the tiny little box I grew up in, one more stretch of my world view to include the vast and meaningful branch of life that can be labeled "unseen."

Although unseen is somewhat of a misnomer, because the evidence will smack you right in the face if you're willing to see it. I've watched as three tiny little white pellets containing nothing but the energetic form of a substance have not only slowly healed his skin, but erased a fear of water overnight, brought a surge of creativity and artistic capabilities overnight, prompted a rush of correctly used pronouns and perfectly composed sentences overnight. His healing continues as I continue to open my eyes further to the amazing unseen world that God created and so many of us are missing out on.

This journey has also allowed me to understand Jackson on a deeper level than I otherwise could have. As I see the world differently, I'm able see him differently. I can see through the behavior of the moment to who he really is and how he's experiencing his world. Because of that I can know that what looks as straightforward as an episode of hyperactivity is actually deep seated unrest that he's experiencing in both his body and mind. I can see that he's as disturbed by it as I am, and that deep down he's longing for peace in that moment as much as I am. What a gift that has been for our relationship.

So thank you, eczema, for all the growth you've stimulated in us. I think your work here is done now. But then again, the farther down we get on Eczema Avenue, the more we keep learning, so I suppose I can be patient a bit longer.

I will choose acceptance over resistance.
We saw a phenomenal woman who does electrodermal screening. She validated everything we're doing for Jackson's eczema (fish oil, vitamin D, probiotics, digestive enzymes) and confirmed my suspicions of a casein sensitivity and mild candida growth. She also validated my understanding of, relationship with, and choices for Jackson, but we'll save that for another day.

So now I have the cold hard facts and I really do have to rid myself of all dairy for at least four weeks. I have been fervently resisting this for four months. I "thought" dairy was contributing to Jackson's eczema and Max's reflux and gas, but in reality I knew. I was giving in to doubt because I didn't want to make the change that I know is best for all of us. But it's haaaaaarrrrrd. *sniff* Okay, whining over and time to accept. I can do this. I will do this. And when I do, we will all reap the benefits, so why resist! I shall think of it as trading cheese for more sleep and a more peaceful house.

I will choose to focus on the things I value about my children, not the things that drive 
me nuts.
Max was given a gloworm for Christmas, which Jackson quickly claimed as his Baby Jesus. He loves to have Baby Jesus light up and sing to him as he "wraps him in cloth and lies him in the manger." The manger has been any number of places: the couch, a large stuffed animal, the rhinoceros ottoman, his bed.

Silly me, I didn't check the bed for Baby Jesus before putting Jackson down for his nap, and thus was treated to an hour long narrative of the adventures of Baby Jesus over the monitor. As I practiced acceptance instead of annoyance (yeah, me!) it finally became clear that he was not going to fall asleep until Baby Jesus ventured elsewhere. I walked in to find the pillow removed form its pillowcase, propped up on the railing and draped with his blanket to make "Rosie's wheelbarrow for Baby Jesus."

Default is to be irritated that he wasn't sleeping at nap time, but the better me says: I love that he can play so creatively and for so long with nothing but a gloworm. I love that he remembers and acts out things we read about. I love that he was content to let Baby Jesus sleep in the rocking chair while he took his nap with no negotiation or complaining. And I love that I got to listen to the sweet sound of his voice while I worked.

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 reads books in the car, and often rather than reading the story as is, he'll create his own scenarios to go with the pictures. He didn't want to leave the house this morning, but we had a schedule and I couldn't give him a choice. I didn't know it was a big deal until he found himself on a page with a Mommy Bunny and a Little Bunny, and this followed: "What's wrong Little Bunny? You're feeling sad? If you're feeling sad you can always come to Mommy Bunny. Mommy Bunny will always listen. What can we do about your sad feelings Little Bunny? Mommy Bunny will help you."

This opened up an opportunity to talk about the fact that he was sad because he wanted to stay home and pretend to cook in his kitchen, something I hadn't bothered to explore in the hurry to get out of the house. We also found out that being able to bring along one of his cooking tools would have helped him feel better about leaving. I didn't tune in and do what he needed me to do before we left. But I did take the open door he gave me to make it better for next time.