It always comes back to connection.

This past week has been one of the hardest weeks of parenting that I've had in a long time. It seems that both kids hit a period of disequilibrium at the same time. It was right on time for Hayden, since she'll be having a birthday at the end of May. I'm not sure why Tristan seems to be hitting it right now too. Either it's just coming a bit late, since he's already had his birthday, or there's just something magical about reaching that three year old mark. That's a well kept secret of parenting, you know. Before you have kids, all you hear about is the "terrible twos". That's a misnomer. The twos are fun. The threes are SO difficult. The terrible twos are a big lie, not to mention a really negative way to talk about your child. But I digress.

 

 

So they've both been in disequilibrium, and it's been difficult. They've both been melting down, seem to have lost all of the maturity they gained over the past year, and have gone back to needing almost constant supervision when they're together. I've definitely been doing a lot of get-off-your-butt parenting, and have been hard to find time to get anything else done. I've particularly been struggling with Hayden. Three, while difficult, I've done before. I know a little of what to expect and that it's totally normal for that age. But I've never done going-on-five before, and so much of the time lately it's seemed like she's morphed into this angry little person that I don't recognize or have the first clue how to handle.

 

 

I've been hanging in there though. I'm experienced enough in parenting now to know that these seasons happen, and that they're not a reflection of my ability as a parent or whether or not my kids will grow up to be productive members of society. They just happen. We just have to try to get through them with as much grace and patience as we can.

 

 

Just like usually happens, I'm learning so much through this process. I've been trying to do everything right and trying to figure out what I could do to help Hayden get through this difficult patch. I thought maybe she needed more big muscle movement, so we've been spending more time than ever outside and at the park. As wonderful as that is, especially in the springtime, it didn't really help. Weird!

 

 

The whole time, I was missing the answer that was staring me in the face. Parenting is all about connection. It always, always, always comes back to connection. If you know me, you know I'm not good with connection. It's a struggle, a stretch for me. I've written before about how Tristan is the one who first taught me how to love, well into my twenties, and while that was an amazing process, it's still a process of growth for me. It's not a switch that can just be turned on, it's a daily process of learning to be vulnerable and make that connection with another human. It's difficult for me, and when I get busy I sometimes forget to focus on practicing it.

 

 

This is counter-productive, of course, because connection is one of the most basic needs of my little girl. I discovered that it was what had been missing almost by accident. Two nights ago I was tired after dinner, and decided to relax on the couch for a couple of minutes before tackling the dishes and bedtime. I turned on the tv to one of those silly cooking competition shows. Hayden snuggled in next to me and we cuddled for twenty minutes or so. It was lovely. How could I have forgotten about this?!? For all the effort I'd been putting in all week to make sure that all her needs were being met, and that I was doing everything I could to be a good parent during a difficult time, I had forgotten about actually connecting with her.

 

 

Her demeanor totally changed after that snuggle session. She seemed like she was the happy little girl that I was used to having around again. We were enjoying each other's company and she seemed to be enjoying life. Wow! And then, unfortunately, an hour later I screwed it up again. Perhaps it's my behaviour that needs more work than hers does. In a moment of frustration(it was the end of the day, remember) I yelled, and in a second's time her countenance fell again. No! I had messed it up again! At least I knew now what I was doing wrong. I apologized, and hugged her. From that next morning, I've been focusing on connecting with her, and it's making all the difference. We still have difficult moments, of course, but I'm learning to help her through them with more patience and grace now that I'm focused on connecting with her.

 

Connection, it always comes back to connection. No matter what else is going on with my kids, I'm learning to remember that connection is always the answer.

 

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Me? Supermom? Only if you are too!

Someone called me a supemom yesterday. My first instinct was to laught out loud- I do NOT consider myself a supermom by any stretch of the imagination. Then I stopped myself, realizing that she was probably serious, and started to ponder.

 

 

Having a blog does not make me a supermom. Posting cute pictures of my kids does not make me a super mom. Feeding them organic food, breastfeeding my two year old, using gentle discipline, co-sleeping and homebirthing- these things do not make me a supermom. Supermom- what does that even mean? I'm just a normal mom, doing the best that I can. The best that I can do is going to look different than the best that another mom can do. Not better, not worse, just different.

 

 

Want to know the truth? I struggle with motherhood. Sure, there are parts of it that come really naturally to me(like the whole mothering a newborn thing- it totally clicked for me from day one), but there are so many other parts that don't. Most days I'm tired, frustrated, and giving this thing my best shot, hoping that I don't screw my kids up too badly. Really.

 

See? Cute picture of us having fun, and Hayden has toothpaste on her face still.

 

Honestly, my personality type (INTJ) is not the greatest suited for motherhood, especially stay at home motherhood. I'm a BIG introvert, so being around small people that need nearly constant interaction all day every day is difficult for me. I do lots of internal thinking and processing, and having toddlers around is a direct conflict with that most of the time. Nothing like being in the middle of deep contemplation and being interrupted with, "Mommy! I pooped!!!" It's a daily struggle to balance my need for learning, thinking, and processing with their needs for interaction and play. I read the other day that INTJs and ENTJs are the types that are most likely, as mothers, to work outside the home, and it was incredibly validating to me just to hear that. I often think that I would be a better mother if I was working outside of the home at least part time. That's not a realistic possibility for us right now, but even just acknowledging to myself that my current situation is not idea for my personality is helpful for me, and helps me to not feel so guitly or helpless when I do get frustrated.

 

As an introvert, especially an introvert that was fairly sheltered as a kid, I'm not very social. I don't make enough playdates or provide enough social interaction, especially for my extroverted kid. I struggle with giving them enough outside time. I don't always enjoy playtime, and we don't do a lot of fancy crafts. These are things that I'm working on, but I'm also giving myself space to be imperfect and not beating myself up over these things. Parenting is a hard job, and more and more lately I'm choosing to give myself credit for the things that I have done right, instead of beating myself up for what I haven't done. And surprisingly, when I do let go of that guilt, I feel so much more confident that I actually feel freer to accomplish some of those things that I was feeling guilty about not doing before. Guilt doesn't help me become a better mother, it holds me back from becoming a better mother.

 

I'm not perfect. I get frustrated, I sometimes speak more harshly than I should, and sometimes I just need a BREAK already! But I never stop trying. I never stop telling my kids that I love them. I never stop trying to do my best to show them that I love them. To me, that's what a supermom really is- someone that loves her kids and is trying to do her best. And that's going to look a little different for every mom. Let's stop comparing ourselves, stop beating ourselves up, and instead acknowledge and celebrate all the good that we do accomplish.

 

Me? Supermom? Only if you are too! I think we're all pretty darn super. Let's start giving ourselves credit for it.

 

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San Antonio and How I'm Letting Go of Must-Do-It-All Guilt.

We're back! We had such a great time on our mini vacation in San Antonio! We:

 

Took goofy pictures

Did an obscene amount of walking along the riverwalk

Slept in every morning(not pictured)

Ate a ridiculously amazing steak dinner topped off with a perfect creme brulee(also not pictured- I felt a little awkward busting out the camera in such a fancy restaurant)

Visited the Guenther House, which had an incredible gingerbread replica of itself inside

 

Saw Les Miserables(incredible! Go see it right away!)

 

I'm thankful for:

The fact that my gut is healed enough to handle things like corn and sugar occasionally, and that I didn't have to obsess over my food except to make sure that it was gluten free

The afternoon at the mall that I got all to myself, dressing up

shopping,

 

 

and finding the Alamo.

Also thankful for the quiet breakfasts I got to myself,

and the fact that we're secure enough in our relationship to not have to spend every minute together. Thad wants to stay in the room and watch football while I go shopping and explore the town? Sounds like a win/win to me!

 

 

We had a great time, and we were so happy to get back home to see the kids.

 

But WOW. I was NOT expecting reintigration to be so hard. Apparently just three days apart was long enough for the kids to forget all the boundaries that we've been setting for forever, and for me to forget just how HARD this parenting thing is! We were back to snatching toys away from each other, forgetting to use words to talk to each other, and forgetting to ask mommy for help when the words aren't working. (They don't normally do these things perfectly, of course, but we've made some good progress and they're learning well.) There has been lots of boundary testing since we got back. I'm sure that's normal, but it sure isn't fun! Lots of patience required.

 

Even though I knew that the first day back was a little harder than my average day at home with the kids, I found myself thinking, "No wonder I'm so tired all the time! No wonder I always feel like I can't get anything done! No wonder!" Parenting these two is a non-stop job, from the time they wake up until the time they go to sleep. NON- STOP. Even when I am able to step away and get something done, I always have to be ready to drop everything to help a child, and that by itself is exhausting, at least for me. I don't know how I let myself forget that, and how I let myself feel guilty for not doing more, but I'm stopping with the guilt.

 

Parenting is a really difficult job. I think I need to give myself a little more credit. Even on days where I don't get anything else done besides care for the kids, I've done something awesome and I don't need to feel any guilt over that. On days when I'm able to get other things done as well(which is most days), I need to celebrate that, not feel guilty that I wasn't able to do more. I'll be able to do more when the kids are older, but for this season that requires non-stop attention, I think I'm doing pretty darn good, and I'm going to start giving myself credit for it.

 

Less guilt. More being proud of myself. More encouraging myself. I think that's the big lesson this vacation taught me.

 

 

Do you ever find yourself feeling guilty for not doing more? Do you have a hard time remembering that simply parenting small children day to day is a big accomplishment on its own? What helps you keep these things in perspective?

 

 

 

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Can't we all just own our decisions?

Yesterday I went to lunch with some mommy friends from church. We had a good time, just chatting and hanging out. Then after we'd been there for a while, a controversial topic came up. (I wasn't even the one that brought it up, aren't you proud of me?)

 

 

The topic was potty training. The mom who had the controversial opinion is a pretty experienced mom- she has two adult children, two tweens, and a one year old. She tried to change the subject when it came up and said that we all probably didn't want to hear her opinion, but the other moms encouraged her to share anyway.

 

 

Her basic opinion was that most parents are way too relaxed about potty training. She said that back in the day, people didn't have three and four year olds walking around in diapers, and that back when everyone used cloth diapers people were a lot more motivated to teach their kids how to use the toilet. She said that she thinks the diaper companies are getting rich off of parents that keep waiting longer and longer to potty train, and that they keep coming out with bigger and bigger diapers and more products so that people will think it's all normal and keep buying.

 

 

At some point in there I said, "So you probably don't think Tristan should still be in diapers, do you?" She hesitantly said no and shook her head. Uh oh!!! Did she just tell me I should be doing something differently? Did she just call me a bad mom??? Nope. I didn't freak out. I didn't get my feelings hurt. You know what I did? I owned my decisions. I owned my reaction. I acknowledged that the choices I've made probably weren't ideal, but that they were what was working for us right now.

 

 

I said, " I don't disagree with what you've said, and I have similar views about a lot of other things. I used to cloth diaper, but as Tristan started getting older and especially when I started the (very labor intensive) GAPS diet, the laundry got to be too much for me to keep up with and I switched to disposables. " I admitted that a big part of the reason that Tristan is still in diapers is because I've been too lazy/ busy to start the potty training process with him. Actually, he started learning to go potty on Saturday, and then I got sick and wasnt up to continuing. I'm sure we'll pick it up again soon.

 

 

The mom at the lunch didn't mention this, but I'm also aware of the fact that there are tons of chemicals in disposable diapers, and that they don't biodegrade. I'm not proud of the fact that I'm putting toxins on my toddlers skin and that I'm contributing to the landfills. But you know what? I know my limits. I know that I can't do everything, and I'm okay with that! For now I've made the choice to prioritize what goes into my child's body(aka what they eat) over what goes on my child's body. I've also made the choice to prioritize my mental health by not adding extra laundry to my list of duties. Are these decisions ideal? No, but they're what's working for my family right now, and I've made them intentionally. I'm confident in my decisions and my actions, even though they're less than ideal.

 

 

We didn't have an argument. I didn't get defensive and my feelings didn't get hurt. My friend didn't bash me or say that I was a horrible mother. She simply shared her opinion on what she would have done differently, and because I was confident in my decision, even though it was different than hers, I didn't get offended.

 

 

Can we all try to do this a little more? My point here is not to say that I'm perfect or that I react this way all the time- this story is just an example. I've definitely overreacted over things in the past. But for the most part, I'm confident in my decisions because I've put a lot of thought into them and have deliberately chosen what's best for our family. Notice I didn't say what's absolutely best- best for my family is going to look different than best for your family. Can we be okay with that? Can we discuss our differences without getting our feelings hurt? Can we acknowledge facts, even when they're not in favor of the decisions we've made?


 

 

Just because someone has a different opinion doesn't necessarily mean they're doing this to you.

Photo Credit

 

 

I'm not saying that we should go around sharing our controversial opinions at the drop of a hat, or that we shouldn't use tact when discussing controversial topics, especially with those that have a different opinion. I'm just frustrated with this trend that I see all the time, when people get offended over someone simply having a different opinion than them, or simply sharing facts. Could we all commit to taking ownership of our decisions? If you don't feel confident about something you're doing, take the time to figure out why. Do you need to change what you're doing, or does your perspective need changing instead? I think if we could all come to a place of feeling humbly confident about our decisions, it could open up the lines of communication a lot more, even between those that have very different opinions and ways of doing things.

 

 

What about you? Do you feel confident in the parenting choices you've made? Are you able to talk with people that have different opinions without getting upset? Where's the line between simply having a different opinion and being judgemental- and does that line seem to move depending on how confident you are in your decision? What do you think contributes to the hostility that sometimes arises when we discuss controversial issues with people that have different opinions?

 

 

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Proud Mommy Moment- Hayden's Riding a Real Bike!

I think one of the best feelings in the world has to be mommy pride- when you're just so proud of something your child has done that you feel like your heart will burst! I had a moment like that on Saturday and I wanted to share it with you.

 

 

Last Christmas we got both kids balance bikes. Best money we've probably ever spent on something for the kids. They absolutely loved them! Hayden was 3.5 when she got hers and learned quickly how to ride it. At first she was upset because it didn't have pedals like her tricycle did, but thanks to the wonders of the Internet, I was able to show her some YouTube videos of kids riding on balance bikes, and she figured it out pretty easily. She was riding within the day, and after a couple of months she had learned how to go really fast and could lift her feet up and coast for long distances.

 

 

The whole point of a balance bike is that it teaches kids the hard skill, balancing, first in an easy and safe way. Once a kid can balance on a bike, it's easy for them to learn how to pedal, and thus be able to ride a regular bike. (There are many, many other benefits to balance bikes, but I'll leave it at that for now.)

 

 

So this weekend on the way home from ballet class, I stopped by a couple of garage sales, and picked up a little pedal bike for just $10. Hayden was sooooo excited. We took it home and tried it out right away. I couldn't believe how quickly she picked it up! I held onto her back to help her balance and get started, but then she pedaled away from me and rode all on her own! It only took a couple of tries for her to be able to get started on her own too, and then she was riding an actual pedal bike(with no training wheels!) completely independently!

 

 

 

We had only made it halfway down our street when she said, "Mom, we can go ahead and find someone else that needs my other bike(meaning her tricycle)". Needless to say, she's pretty thrilled about her new bike- and I'm so proud! I couldn't believe how quickly she picked it up, or that a four year old could ride a pedal bike with no training wheels! As if I wasn't already a big believer in balance bikes, this totally sealed the deal for me. (I keep telling Thad that I won't be surprised at all if tricycles are obsolete in 20 or 30 years- balance bikes are just that much more awesome!)

 

 

I as going to add a video, but apparently I either can't or don't know how, so you're going to have to use your imagination.

She's having so much fun, and now that the weather's finally cooled down a little, we've been riding bikes just about every day!

 

I know I'm not the only one with a super proud mommy moment- what have your kids been doing lately that makes you burst with pride?

 

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To the Boy Who Taught Me How to Love.

Dear son:

When you were born, I had already been married for 4 years and 8 months. I had already been a mother for 21 months. Yet somehow, I had not learned how to love. You were the one that taught me that.

 

Your birth was one of the most amazing experiences of my life. It was one of the most real experiences of my life. I had said that I wanted to be truly present for your birth, truly in the moment, and I was. I can't even explain how incredible your birth was for me- to go through the pain, the struggle, the agony, while fully experiencing all of it, knowing that you were waiting for me at the end. When that pain finally ended, and then you were there- all 8 pounds, 11 ounces, 15 inch head of you- and I had done it! I had never felt so joyful, so accomplished, so empowered. Your birth was the beginning of something wonderful, and not just because you had entered the world, but also because your presence in it would change me forever.

 

Just 6 hours after you were born, we had to take you in to the hospital. Your lungs didn't assimilate the small amount of fluid like they should have, and you were having trouble breathing. They stuck you with a needle several times, put an iv in your head, and put you in a bassinet in the NICU. I was scared. I was disappointed. But I was also numb. I didn't feel bonded to you yet. I would have done anything to protect you, but not because of the bond that we have now, more because I knew in my head that you were my baby and I'd someday fall in love. The bonding that we should have had right after birth was cut short. When they told me that we had to leave you in the NICU, that we weren't allowed in the room with you from 7-8AM, that everyone had to leave, I didn't fight to stay with you. You weren't even 24 hours old yet, and I left you. I regret that, and I'm forever thankful that nothing happened to you while I was gone.

 

When we got to take you home 2 days later, you and I made up for lost time. My midwife told me to climb into bed with you and stay skin to skin for the next week or two, and we did. Those were beautiful days. Oh, the cuddles. I couldn't stop examining you all over. I couldn't stop taking pictures of you. And we bonded.

 

When you were 6 months old, you taught me that not only was this Attachment Parenting stuff healthy for you, but that they were right about babies being people too. You were playing in the playroom, and I wanted you in the living room where I could keep an eye on you. I picked you up to carry you into the living room, and you started to cry! I froze- surely you couldn't be crying because I was taking you out of the playroom? Sure enough- as soon as I put you back, you stopped crying. I was amazed! You were a little person, and even though you couldn't talk or move around much yet, you had your own opinions and desires. From that day, I started to think about what things were like from your perspective, and how I could show you that your perspective was valuable to me too.

 

When you were about 18 months old you taught me even more about that, about respecting your needs and communicating with you. You still couldn't talk much, but you could understand almost everything I said, and I was learning that very quickly. I learned that I could get you to easily go along with things that were unpleasant for you, but necessary, if I would just explain them to you beforehand and coach you through them. It seems so simple to me now, to just treat you with the same consideration that I would anyone else, but at the time that was a very novel concept to me. Your nearly instant positive responses were an excellent teacher.

 

All of these things helped us to form an amazing bond. I knew what made you tick, and like any baby, you were crazy about your momma. But what I never expected was for that bond to grow even deeper as you made your way through your second year. I had chosen to nurse you, of course, just like I had nursed your sister. She and I had a wonderful 15 months of nursing, and the first 15 months of nursing you were much the same. I never expected a surprise to come along after all the experience I already had. I knew from the beginning I wanted to nurse you for longer, to let you self wean when you were ready, but it totally caught me off guard that it was so very much different than what I had already experienced, both with you and your sister.

 

With Hayden, and at first with you, nursing was a bonding experience, but it was also a functional one. You were hungry; I fed you. Simple as that. Yes, it was wonderful, and of course I treasured it, but at the core it was still an act of necessity. Not so as you got older. You tried food for the first time at 9 months old, but by the time you were 18 months you were crazy about it. You were eating everything you could get your hands on! Even so, your favorite thing in the world was still your num nums, and like I had planned, I continued to nurse you. It was so different for me now though. You weren't a baby anymore- you were growing into a boy! You were walking, talking, playing, interacting! You were eating food, and not just bites here and there, but a regular diet! I knew you didn't need to nurse for sustainment anymore. Our nursing relationship was no longer a mainly functional one, but had become an emotional one.

 

It was both strange and exciting for me at first. I had never experienced anything like it before. Not only did I love you as part of my family, as my child, but I was willingly sharing my body with you- not because you needed it to survive, but just because I loved you. That realization, that sharing of such a deeply tangible part of me with another human being began to open my heart in a way that it never had before. I had never shared myself so freely, so deeply before. It was revolutionary for me!

 

 

And then, as things started to fall apart, you taught me once again how to love. You see, as I was growing closer to you, your sister and I were pulling farther and farther apart. We became enemies. I didn't enjoy being around her. I didn't know how to handle her. I didn't know what to do with the angry feelings inside of me when she did something I didn't approve of. They scared me. I started to hate motherhood. That really scared me. I knew something was really, really wrong. I was starting to suspect that it had to do with the discipline method and mindset that I had. Your sister was getting lots of spankings back then.

 

One day I was looking at you and thought about how someday you would get bigger, and I'd have to spank you just like I spanked your sister. I had barely finished the thought when I felt my heart breaking into a million pieces- just at the thought of doing that to you, of violating your trust in me like that! I knew I could never strike you. Then the sobering, life changing truth dropped into my heart- How could I feel that way about you, while at the same time hitting your sister just about every day, sometimes multiple times a day? What had I done?

 

That thought led me on a journey- to grace, to love, to relearning what I knew about parenting, about grace, and about myself. It ultimately led me to gentle discipline, to learning to disciple the two of you, instead of punishing. I began to change the way I interacted with your sister, and the way that I thought about her. I stopped spanking, and started connecting. I learned how to set boundaries without punishing. I learned to start letting go of my fears and my need for control. Just how I had learned to open my heart with you, I began learning how to open it to others too. The bond that I had lost with your sister is being restored. The bond between your dad and me is more real than ever before.

 

Amazingly, as my heart began to open to love, I began to feel God's love more deeply, and in a more real way than I ever had before. For the first time, and after 26 years of following Him, I truly began to understand just how much He truly loves me. I began to truly follow Him, to long for Him, to love Him and allow Him to love me too. Then I understood that this was His plan all along- that He sent you to me to teach me how to love, to teach me how to draw closer to Him. You were just a baby- of course you didn't know what you were doing, how deeply you were changing me. But He knew, and He used you. Because of Him, and because of you, I'm learning how to truly love, and I feel more alive, more real than I ever have before.

 

I don't know if you'll ever understand this impact that you've had on my life, but I'll always be thankful. Thankful for you, the boy that taught me how to love.

 

To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything, and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give your heart to no one, not even to an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements; lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket-safe, dark, motionless, airless-it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable.

~ C.S. Lewis

 

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To Step in, or Not To Step In- That is the Question.

Yesterday at the grocery store I saw a beautiful new family. The mom and dad were a young couple, and the little girl they had with them couldn't have been more than a couple of weeks old. She was so precious. I noticed the nursing cami that the mom was wearing, and the bebe au lait nursing cover that was draped over the baby's lap, and knew that she was a fellow nursing momma.





I also noticed that the baby was perched high on top of the shopping cart inside of her car seat. I felt my heart tighten up a little bit. I know how dangerous that is. I know that babies have been hospitalized after falling off of car seats perched atop a shopping cart like this girl was. I know that some babies have even died because of a fall like that. The thought of something happening to that precious, new little baby- I could barely bear to even think about it. If I felt that way about a baby that I barely knew, how much more must her parents feel protective of her? I'm almost positive that they didn't know just how dangerous it was for their little one to be sitting on top of the shopping cart like that.

These awesome little seats? They shouldn't go on top of a shopping cart. 

I so badly wanted to say something to them. Our paths through the grocery store crossed several times, and I thought about how I would approach them and what I would say. Maybe something about how I had no idea when my first was little, and that I'm glad someone told me? I could start by apologizing for inerrupting them, and then say something about how I'd hate to see something bad happen to the beautiful little girl they had with them. Would that come across right? I ran through all the things I wanted to say each time I saw them, but I didn't. I kept my mouth shut.





I know that people don't like criticism. Most people have a hard time hearing they're doing something wrong, no matter how nicely it's presented, especially coming from a stranger! I didn't want anything to happen to the baby, but I also didn't want to offend a couple of complete strangers, especially ones that were brand new parents. Parents, especially new ones, need encouragement, right? I was so torn- and when you factor in my nervousness with talking to people I don't know, it ended in me keeping my mouth shut and not saying anything to them.





Then last night I was scrolling through Facebook, and came across this link. It's an open letter that a mom wrote to a stranger that helped her in the Safeway parking lot- a stranger that helped her stay calm after her shopping cart hit the side of a speed bump in the parking lot, sending her baby's car seat crashing to the concrete. Thankfully, the baby was okay, but what a scary moment(including an ambulance ride to be checked out at the hospital) for both the baby and the mother!!!





Reading that had me doubting myself even more. What if the same thing had happened to the family I saw on their way out to their car? What if that little girl had been hurt, and I could have said something to save her, and didn't? But was it my business to say something? Could I even say something without being offensive? My "thanks for NIP" cards have gone over well- what if I made a card that explained the dangers of perching a car seat on top of a shopping cart to hand to parents that I came across? But wouldn't that just make the interaction even more awkward?





I'm still struggling with these questions, and I'm still not sure what I'll do next time I see a baby baanced precariously on top of a shopping cart. Is it even my business to care?




  What would you do? Do you say something when you see other parents doing something dangerous, or do you stay quiet so as not to offend? Is there a way to share important information with a complete stranger without offending? What would you do?

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Just one simple nursing session...

I've got a quick second to sit down at the laptop, and I want to share the coolest breastfeeding story that my grandma shared with me yesterday! Anytime I'm around anyone that knows me at all, they know that breastfeeding is fair game for conversation, so the topic came up without me even saying anything.


A couple of weeks ago, my grandma was at a funeral for someone in her ex husband's family. (In my crazy family, when people divorce, it's not an "I hate you and we're never speaking again" kind of thing, it's more of a "Hey, now that we're not married anymore, we can be great friends!" My grandma and her (now late) ex husband even flew in together to visit us once when we were kids. Silly. Anyway...) At one point during the visitation, her ex-niece (ex husband's sister's daughter- got it?) came up to her and said, "I just have to tell you this story!"


She told about how way back in '64, right after my mom was born, they were all at a family function when my grandma excused herself to another room to go nurse the baby. Her niece, Bonnie, who was just a child at the time, followed her into the room and watched her nurse my mom. My grandma says that she doesn't even remember the interaction, but Bonnie told her that the sight of her nursing the baby was one of the most beautiful things she's ever seen. She said that she and my grandma sat there and chatted for a couple of minutes about breastfeeding.


Then Bonnie told my grandma that that one interaction when she was a child was so meaningful to her that it inspired her to go on to not only nurse all of her children, but to also get certified as a lactation consultant! (I'm not sure what kind, but it doesn't really matter.)


I thought that was just so amazing. Women inspiring women to help other women- it brings tears to my eyes! What my grandma did that day so many years ago didn't seem like a big deal- she doesn't even remember it. But for one little girl, it was enough to inspire her to nurse her own children and make a living out of helping others to do the same. Just one nursing session witnessed by a little girl has sent waves of love and support throughout an entire community! 


So remember- the little acts of love and nurturing that you show to others might not seem like a big deal to you, but you never know when they could be making a world of difference to others. That little word of encouragement you share with another nursing mom might be exactly what she needs to give her the strength to keep going when it gets tough. As women and mothers, lets try to do whatever we can to encourage each other- you never know the long lasting effect it might have!

Still nursing. Still loving it.

Nursing is normal. You know what else is normal? Nursing a toddler. Nursing a preschooler is normal too. It's biologically normal, developmentally normal, and historically normal. It also works really well for me and my son. So why would I stop nursing him just because it's not socially normal for me to continue? I don't make a habit out of making decisions based on what society thinks of me, especially when it comes to the well being of my children.

 

 

I think some people assume that a toddler nurses just like an infant does, but that's just not true. At this point, it's really not a big deal. We don't make a grand ceremony about it. I nurse him down to sleep every night, and every morning he climbs into my bed looking for his num nums. We snuggle and nurse for 5 or 10 minutes, and then he declares that he's "all done" and runs off to ask Daddy for a bananna. Nursing is just a lovely part of his morning routine. We don't nurse much during the day anymore, only every once in a while. We have healthy boundaries set too. If he wakes up in the middle of the night(which happens occasionally, but not often), he may nurse, but not all night. If he gets upset about that, I comfort him, but he still doesn't get to nurse all night. If he asks to nurse during the day, and I'm not able to nurse him for whatever reason, I say, "Sorry buddy, not right now", and he says, "Awww, man!" and moves on with his day. But most days, we only nurse first thing in the morning and as the last thing before he goes to bed.


 

 

Extended breastfeeding has amazing health benefits. My breastmilk is still boosting his immune system and helping keep his gut healthy. My breastmilk still contains the cancer killing properties that it did when he was an infant. My breastmilk is still helping prevent my chances of developing breast cancer, and the longer I nurse, the lower that risk goes! My breast milk is also helping boost his brain- studies have shown that the longer a child is nursed, the more intelligent they are. Breastmilk is still the perfect food that it was when he was an infant, and it's changed along with him to provide just what he needs at this stage of his life. It's amazing!

 

 

The psychological benefits are awesome too. Tristan and I have an amazing bond, and he's secure in the knowledge that I'll always be there for him. He's such a happy kid, and rarely gets upset enough to throw a fit or do other "terrible twos" things that are talked about. He's independent and adventurous, and loves to climb. He has a wonderful imagination, and is constantly pretending with his toys. He has a huge vocabulary, and often uses words like "actually" in context, like that's a completely normal thing for someone his age to do. He's cherished and well loved by everyone that knows him. Of course, breastfeeding doesn't get all the credit for that, but I do believe that nursing has had a big part in helping him become the awesome little toddler that he is. At the very least, it's clear that it's not hindering his development in any way.

 

 

And on that note, Tristan and I have reached 2.5 years of nursing as of last week! I'm so proud of us! We've achieved and exceeded the goal that I set when he was born, which was to nurse for two years. I dare say that if things continue the way they're headed, we'll have no problem making it to three.

 

 

Still going strong, still loving nursing!

 

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A Lesson in Spilled Milk

Ever had one of those moments when your innocent child teaches you so much about life that it just astounds you?

The other day, I was in the middle of serving lunch when Hayden accidentally spilled some of her milk. In true four year old fashion, she started to melt down over it. In her world, this was a big deal! Now she wouldn't have any milk to drink, there was milk all over the table where she was trying to eat, and lunch was generally ruined. Definitely worth a big freakout. In my own shortcoming, I was getting frustrated with the over the top reactions to everything, but then I had an idea that I thought might help. I called her over into the kitchen where I was, calmed her down a little bit, and then said, "Can I ask you a question?" She agreed, so I said, "Have you ever had a problem that I couldn't fix for you?" She shook her head no. Then I said, "Watch this!" I took her cup and handed her a dish rag. I wiped off her cup and refilled it while she wiped down the table. Everything was good as new! 

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I called her over to me again, and said, "Did you see how I fixed that for you? It's all good as new now, right?" She nodded, and I continued, "So see, whenever you have a problem, you don't always have to freak out and start crying. If you just remember that I can help you when you have a problem, you can come ask me for help and I'll help you fix it, okay?" 

Before I even got the words out of my mouth, I could feel that nudge in my heart, reminding me that my Heavenly Father is saying the same thing to me. How many times do I encounter a problem and throw myself straight into a grownup freak out fit, not remembering that if I would just ask Him, He would take care of it for me? I could almost hear Him saying, "Have you ever had a problem that I couldn't fix for you?" Of course not! Even in the middle of my biggest, most cry-myself-to-sleep, life altering problems, He's been right there with me and has seen me through. Of course He's more than able to fix any problem for me- often in a way that I never could have imagined myself. So why do I find it so hard to remember to trust first in Him, instead of imagining the multitude of ways that my life could go wrong? 

Maybe this little reminder was more for me than it was for her. 

Quiet Time- The Super Sanity Saver!

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Just one simple concept has totally revolutionized my life. Seriously! Who knew that something as simple as a daily quiet time could brighten my entire day, and my entire outlook on life??? I sure didn't, or you'd better believe I would have started this a long time ago!





You see, my kids don't nap. I dunno why, but they've always been the kids on the low end of the "sleep needed" spectrum. They both dropped down to one nap around 12 months, and both stopped napping completely around 19 months. I know- that's really early. Tell me about it. This means that from morning until bedtime at night, I've had at least one kid awake that entire time for almost 2.5 years now. It's been exhausting! Being an introvert has only made the problem worse. As an introvert, I need alone time like I need oxygen, so with the kids up all day I'd then stay up late after they went to bed to get some alone time. Then I'd be tired the next day from staying up too late, and then I'd be grumpy and get frustrated with the kids more easily, which would lead to me REALLY needing alone time at the end of the day. And then I'd stay up too late again. It's been a really vicious, exhausting cycle.





I'd always dismissed the quiet time idea as something that wouldn't really work for us, or that would be too hard to implement, or something we didn't really need. Ha! The other day I was complaining to my friend about how exhausting motherhood was, and how it would be so much easier if the kids would just take a nap. She brought up the quiet time idea, and again, I blew it off. But the next day the kids were going crazy, and I had to pull them off of each other for what seemed like the millionth time, and I decided to just give it a try.





"Okay, guys, it's quiet time now!!!"





They looked at me inquisitively. Then they actually got excited! Tristan said, "It's quiet time?" "Yep, buddy, it's quiet time. Quiet time means that Hayden is going to play in Hayden's room, and Tristan is going to play in Tristan's room. You guys will each play quietly in your room until I tell you that quiet time is over."





And it actually worked! I couldn't believe it. They actually (mostly)stayed in their rooms and played quietly! I can't even tell you how wonderful it is to have some peace and quiet! To have a little break in the middle of the day when I'm not having to play referee, or entertain someone, or listen to screaming is just AMAZING. The first day, quiet time lasted about 25 minutes, but after a couple of days of practice, quiet time yesterday lasted for a whole hour! A whole hour to myself in the middle of the day! It's seriously one of the best things that's happened to me in a long time.





I'm getting time in the middle of the day to relax, recharge, and regroup, which means that by the time the kids go to bed, I can just finish out my day, relax a little bit, and then go to bed at a decent hour. No more staying up late because I'm absolutely starved for alone time! I've actually been going to bed at a decent hour, which means that in the mornings I'm actually in a good mood! I've actually been waking up feeling optimistic about the day- knowing that if I throw myself into doing activities with the kids and taking care of housework I'll get a break in the middle of the day.





I can't even explain how much of an impact this has had on my outlook in general. I had NO IDEA that just a simple daily quiet time could make me feel so much happier about my life. If I had known, I would have started this years ago! If you have small kids that don't nap anymore, I highly recommend that you teach them to have a daily quiet time. If you're anything like me, you'll totally thank yourself!

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Entering Recharge Mode

I'm an introvert. Very much an introvert, actually. And this month has been absolutely exhausting for an introvert like me.

Just in case you don't know what an introvert is, let me give you a quick run down. Contrary to popular opinion, introversion is not the same as being shy, not the same as not liking people, and is not the same as being selfish or self-centered(all common, but false, assumptions about introverts.) Introversion means that a person that's an introvert will be drained of energy when interacting with other people, and will be re-energized by spending time alone, or with one or two other people. (For me, since I'm a strong introvert, spending time with one or two other people doesn't really cut it in the re-energizing department. I need regular time by myself to feel like myself.) Extroverts are the opposite- they gain energy by spending time with others. Many introverts like spending time with other people, they'll just need an adequate time alone afterwards to recharge. Many introverts are friendly and outgoing, and in a social setting act similar to extroverts, they'll just need some time by themselves to process later. A big part of an introvert's life is inside their own head, and they need time to develop and care for that world. Does that make sense? 

So. I need lots of alone time to process and just "be". This past month? Hasn't been happening. First was Hayden's birthday. Then with the church's anniversary service, Thad was pretty much gone and out working all day, every day for two or three weeks straight(and he was out of town and completely gone for three of those days). He was working hard, but so was I, taking care of the kids and the house completely on my own. The anniversary service itself was amazing, but that was an ENTIRE day of interacting with people- totally exhausting for me, on top of already being exhausted. Whew. Then add on the regular Sunday and Wednesday services, on top of other various meetings and interactions with church members, etc. The weekend after the anniversary service we had a wedding to attend, so that was another long night of interaction. I know that there are a lot of you out there that have a lot more on your plate, and I'm not trying to complain, just explain where I'm at right now. 

Just as I was starting to recover from all that and feel normal again, my aunt and uncle came into town. I love my aunt and uncle. I LOVE spending time with them. But it was not an ideal time for my introverted self to have company. I apologized for not being as energetic and fun as I usually am when they visit, but I just didn't have a lot left to offer! They were gracious enough to understand, and my aunt arranged for us to get some one on one time together. For me, it's not the same as alone time, but still a lot more helpful than being around 5 or 6 people at a time- plus I really enjoy spending time with my aunt. 

They left yesterday afternoon, and I don't think I've ever been more excited to have the house to myself! It wasn't that I was happy for them to leave, I was just so happy to be by myself(well, plus the kids) for the first time in what felt like forever. I felt a tiny bit more refreshed when I finally dragged myself to bed last night, and thought maybe I'd be good now. Oh no. 

I didn't realize just how bad things had gotten until after church this morning. I normally feel a bit drained after 3 or 4 hours of interacting with people every Sunday, but today I was just exhausted and even felt a bit panicky just after church got over. I could not wait to get out of that door and just get away from everyone! Then it dawned on me. I've been running on fumes for three weeks now. My level of interaction compared to my needed alone time has been grossly out of balance the past month, which means that my tolerance for interaction with other people is extremely low right now. I'm in serious need of recharging! 

So this week is self care week. I'm focusing on me this week. Tomorrow Thad will watch the kids for three or four hours so that I can have some alone time. Maybe that will be enough to catch me back up, but if it's not, I'm going to take every opportunity that I can this week to recharge. The kids might watch a little more tv than usual. I might not get as much housework done. But that's ok. I'm scared to find out what might happen if I don't take care of myself and get the rest and rejuvenation that I need. I can't be the mom and wife that my family needs if I'm burned out and not feeling like myself. So this week, I'm putting myself at the top of the priority list.




And tonight? I'm getting the kids to bed, and then settling in with a glass of wine, a bowl of strawberries(and GAPS icing to dip them in), and some GCM. It's been offline for four days now for a summer break, and I can't wait to dive right back in.

This is Not the Life I Wanted- Or Is It?

Growing up in a fundie-lite home, I heard lots of interesting things about women. I was taught that women were subordinate to men, and that a woman's place was at home, with the children, preferably homeschooling them. ("Woman! Make me a sammich!") My mom dropped out of college 4 credits short of her associates degree to marry my dad. There were not many (any?) messages about strong, confident women or how women could choose careers and have a life outside the home. My mom even went so far as to tell me that women that work in the corporate world are unhappy because God's will is for them to be at home with their families, not working. (!!!)  I was never given the freedom to explore my options and choose which one was best for me. I was never told that it was an option to be something instead of or in addition to being a wife and a mother.

So, needless to say, I didn't have any grand dreams or aspirations for my future. When someone asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up, I'd say that I wanted to be a mother. By the time I graduated high school, I was pretty deeply involved with my boyfriend at the time, who would later be my husband. I had no interest at all in going to college. I didn't see the point! I loved Thad, and I knew we were going to get married. If we were going to get married, and I was going to be a wife and mom at some point in the near future, why did I need to go to college??? My dad basically forced me to go- he said that if I wanted to continue to live under his roof, I'd at least need to take some courses at the community college. I'm SO glad that he did. It was just a couple of courses at the local college, but I absolutely loved it. I thrive on learning, and I had no idea that college could be so fun and empowering! That was my first experience in a classroom setting- up until then I'd been exclusively homeschooled, from day one all the way until my high school graduation. I got A's in every class but one(and could have gotten an A in that class too, but I was distracted by grieving my dad's death while planning my wedding- I'm going to give myself a pass on that one.) and felt so proud of myself.





I completed two semesters at the community college, and then got married. Ah, yes- that's what I had been waiting for! Now my dreams of being a wife and mom could come true! I didn't go back to school that next semester- there was no need now that I was a wife. I threw myself into the marriage- to "submitting and supporting". When the kids came along, I then became a full time mother. And you know what? I was miserable. This wonderful dream that had been placed in my head since the day I was a child wasn't so dreamy after all. I felt stuck. Stifled. My husband is an idea man, and is constantly coming up with new ideas and schemes that he gets really excited about. And as a "good wife", it was my job to support him- no questions asked! I tried to do my best, but deep down I really didn't like a lot of his ideas. (Sorry, honey!) And even though I was trying really hard, because I knew it was the "right" thing to do, I wasn't very good at supporting him.





Same thing with motherhood. I knew it was right and "Godly" for me to be at home with my kids. But I wondered why, if that was true, did I feel so miserable? Why did I feel so stuck? Why wasn't I enjoying the time that I was spending with them? Why did I find myself dreaming of using my brain again, and doing something that challenged me intellectually? If what I was doing was exactly what God wanted me to do, then why did I feel so miserable in the very core of my being?





It took a while, but I finally found the answers to those questions. My value does not lie exclusively in my wifehood or motherhood. I have purpose and meaning outside of those relationships. God did not give me a brain and intend for me not to use it. God did not command women to exclusively stay at home and raise children. As I learned these things and my mind and heart were opened, I got so excited!!! I could do and be so much more than I had anticipated! I could go back to school if I wanted to! I could work outside the home if I wanted to! I could do or be whatever I wanted to be! For the first time in my life, I realized that I could dream outside of the home, outside of the box I had been placed in when I was born and they discovered that I was a girl.





And I do have dreams. The one that I'm closest to right now is to become a doula, and be with women as they give birth- and I'm slowly working towards that goal, and it's so exciting! I have other dreams too, although they're in the more distant future. But it makes my heart happy just to have them there, and to know that they're possible. Just to know that I can dream, and that it's okay for me to dream of someday doing big things is so empowering for me. But for right now, I'm still at home, raising my babies and supporting my husband as he plants a church. That's right, I'm doing exactly the same thing that I was doing before. As much as it sounds appealing to me, I don't have a job outside the home. I'm not going to school. My children need me at home right now, while they're young, and my husband needs me at home supporting him while he's working endless hours planting a church.





I'm doing exactly what I was doing before, but now I'm content, because I'm living a life that I intentionally chose for myself.







I'm not at home because someone told me that I had to be. You see, family and motherhood was always truly a part of my heart- and always will be. Much of the things that I apsire to have to do with helping mothers and families, and I'm excited about that. The problem wasn't that I didn't want to be a wife or mother- it was that I was never given the opportunity to choose between that and something else, or that AND something else. Because of the messages I received as a girl, I belived that family was the only acceptable path for me. I believed that God didn't want me to do anything more than be a wife or mom, and that's why I made the "choices" that I made- and really, they weren't even choices. I didn't see any other options- not if I wanted to be pleasing to God.




Now, I'm home because I've chosen to be. I've looked at the situation, at my dreams and goals, at my husband's dreams and goals, and the needs of our family, and I've made the decision that makes the most sense for all of us. We're a team, and we work together. I love being home with my kids- because that's where I've chosen to be. I'm choosing a season of sacrifice because I know it's best for them, and I truly am enjoying it. It's an honor to be the person that cares for and raises my children, and I know that the way that I treat them will have a lifelong impact on them. That's something I take very seriously! If by giving selflessly I can have a positive impact on the rest of their lives, then I am more than happy to make that my focus. I love them with all of my heart and I want what's best for them! Of course, there are hard days and I need breaks every once in a while, but that's true of any job. But in the big picture, and in the bottom of my heart, I'm so thankful to be staying home and enjoying this time with my kids.

Now, I'm supporting my husband not because I feel like I have to, but because I love him and believe in him! He is an amazing pastor and preacher, and I believe in him 100%. I know that he's called to do what he's doing, and it's so amazing to see how many lives he's been able to influence for good. Our church celebrated our first year this week, and you should have heard the sermon that he preached. He totally knocked it out of the park, and I was so, so proud of him. I'm happy to do what I do so that he can focus on what he's really good at. I'm now supporting him because I believe in him, not because I have to. And isn't that so much better in the end? Who would want love and support out of obligation? True love isn't possible unless you also have a choice not to love. Isn't that why God gave us free will- because He wanted us to choose to love him? The same thing applies in our earthly relationships too. God didn't intend for any of us to be stuck, without a choice in our own lives.

I've made a choice to love. I've made a choice to sacrifice. And even though from an outsider's perspective it might look like I'm doing exactly the same things, for me it's so much different now. My love for my family is so much more genuine now. When I give of myself to them, I'm truly giving of myself- because I now know that I have a choice not to. I feel so much more content in this season of being a stay at home mom now that it's something I've chosen to do, instead of something that someone told me that I had to do. 








Have you ever found yourself living a life that someone else chose for you? What did you do about it? 

Kids are people too- and how remembering that can make life so much easier.

Today's post is part of the 2012 Carnival of Gentle Discipline, hosted by Parenting Gently. I'm so excited to be a part of this carnival for the first time this year! Make sure you check out the links at the bottom of this post so that you don't miss the awesome contributions by other gentle discipline bloggers! 





Making the change from punitive discipline to positive discipline doesn't just take a change of methods, it takes a change of heart and a different way of thinking. One of my first big light bulb concepts as I was making the transition was when I started to understand the idea that babies and children are people too! That sounds silly, doesn't it? Of course babies are people- they're human. But do we treat them like they're people? Do we respect them like they are? These questions can be the key, not only to your child's confidence and security levels, but also to building peace and fostering a sense of teamwork in your home.





Picture this: you're at Starbucks for a much needed mommy break. You've ordered your coffee(or if you're me, opened up the mason jar of kombucha that you brought from home), opened up your snacks, and have settled in for some very much needed relax time. This is your favorite part of the day. It's just you and your thoughts. Maybe you're reading a book. Maybe you're writing something. Whatever you're doing, you're thoroughly enjoying it. Then, out of the blue, with no warning or explanation, someone twice your size snatches you out of your chair and whisks you home to a crying baby and a cranky toddler who are both needing to be comforted and fed. How would that make you feel? Confused? Resentful? Grumpy? Would it be easy for you to care for your children with the same level of patience that you normally have? Then imagine the same scenario playing out, except this time you're really hungry, or running on three hours of sleep, or in physical pain. Imagine how upset you'd be then!

Now let's imagine the same scenario, except this time, just as you've gotten settled into your comfy chair with your favorite book, your husband calls. He says, "Baby, I'm really sorry to have to do this to you, but I need you to come home. I know you need your alone time, but I just got a call from work and I have to go in ASAP. I was planning on making dinner tonight, but I can't since I have to go to work. Sorry! I promise I'll make it up to you later." That would feel so much different, right? The problem with the first scenario wasn't so much the taking care of the kids and cooking dinner, as much as the lack of transition and the way that your basic needs were disregarded. This time, your need to know what was going on was respected. Your need for alone time, even though it was cut short, was respected, and there was a promise to make it up later. Your right to control your own body was respected- you got to make the choice to walk out of Starbucks and voluntarily drive home, instead of being forcefully carried there.





The first scenario sounds laughable, doesn't it? We just don't think of treating an adult in those terms. We all know that adults have a right to know what's going on, and the reasons why they're doing something. Most of us wouldn't dream of trying to pick up or push another adult without at least warning them first. Normal, healthy people are well aware of the fact that every person has a right to their own body, and that it belongs to only them. We all know about personal space, personal "bubbles", and that it's generally wrong to touch someone without their consent. These are no brainers- when we're talking about adults.





So why is it different when we're talking about babies, toddlers, and children? A child's size and vulnerability should not make him exempt to these basic human laws, it should make his caregivers more vigilant to follow them.





Lets take the first scenario again, but this time instead of you at Starbucks, it's your toddler playing blocks on the floor. Have you ever been in a hurry to get out the door to go somewhere, and in your rush just scooped your toddler away from whatever he was focusing on and hurried him to the car? I know I have. That doesn't usually go over so well! Blocks or books or whatever else your toddler is playing with might seem trivial to you, but to your toddler they're just as important as whatever it is that you concentrate on.

Concentrating.

It might take some retraining of your own thought patterns, but I've found that transitions become so much easier when I remember to give my kids the respect they deserve and take the time to help them through the transitions.





So how does this work out in real life? For me, it looks something like this. Unless I have a good reason not to, I allow and encourage my kids to make choices themselves and do things themselves. When I do have to impose a decision on them, I explain it to them in an age appropriate way and give them an appropriate amount of time and help in making the transition. I use this with just about any situation that pops up, and it works really well for us. I wish I had started out parenting with this concept in mind, but unfortunately I didn't really start learning about gentle discipline until Tristan was about 18 months old. It blew my mind to see how effective the tools were, even on an 18 month old, and how much easier it was to work through things that had been challenging for me with Hayden.





I still remember one of the first times I tried out this principle on Tristan. Thad, Tristan, and I were sitting in the living room, and for some odd reason Thad had given Tristan his debit card to look at. I know that's weird. I don't remember why. Tristan was playing with the card, and then, of course, Thad needed it back. He asked Tristan to give it back to him, and Tristan pulled it closer and said "no". With Hayden, at that point, I probably would have just snatched it out of her hand and given it back to Thad. I would have thought to myself, "Well if you're going to be stubborn like that and not give it back when it's time, then I'll just take it from you!" *Insert crossed arms and pouty face here. Very mature.* By this time though, I'd just started learning about showing respect to my children, and I didn't want to snatch it away from him- I wanted to encourage him to give it back himself at the appropriate time. So I said, "Tristan, it's time to let daddy have a turn. Say 'bye bye, card!'" As soon as I said that, Tristan reached his little arm out and gave the card right back to Thad! My mind was blown! With just a simple explanation and transition, Tristan had gone from refusing to give something back to willingly giving it up- no force required. How wonderful!!!






At first it was difficult for me to think in this new way- to remember that these little ones were individual people that deserved to be treated like they were. And I'm definitely not saying that I always handle these situations perfectly. But the more I practiced, and the more I saw how effective they tools were, and how I could get my toddlers to peacefully and willingly comply with what I needed them to do, the more natural it started to feel.





Nursing provided another good lesson for me. Anyone that's nursed a toddler knows that it's not a good idea to abruptly stop a nursing session without warning. I tried that once as I was first learning these tools. Tristan was nursing, and for some reason I can't remember, I needed to get up quickly. I unlatched Tristan as if I owned him, and started to get up. His poor little face fell, and he started to cry- that super sad cry that says, "You just broke my heart!" Whatever it was I was rushing to was suddenly unimportant, and I quickly sat back down and latched him back on. As he calmed down, I thought about what I had done, and decided to do an experiment and try something different. Tristan was only about 18 months old at this point, and wasn't talking hardly at all yet, so I wasn't sure how much he'd understand. But after he calmed down, I said, "Hey buddy, mom's going to need to get up in a minute, so you'll need to be all done with num num. I'm going to count to three, and then we'll be all done." I counted slowly, and when I reached three, and he unlatched himself and happily started playing with something else! I couldn't believe how easy that was! Counting to three is still our little signal that nursing time is over. Now that Tristan's older, he'll often unlatch and happily count himself! It's so helpful to have cues like that- they help Tristan to transition, and help me to remember that he's his own person and in control of his own body and his own choices.

I couldn't believe this tiny little guy could understand when I explained that when I counted to three, nursing time was over! I definitely underestimated him!

Now of course, respecting your child's need to make choices for themselves doesn't mean that they can or should be making every choice. When it's appropriate, I believe it's good to allow kids to make decisions and do things themselves. But of course there will always be times when, as a parent, you have to override the child's choice or make one for them. But even at those times, that can still be done while keeping in mind that the child is a person that deserves respect, and to not be trampled on.






For example- Tristan likes to climb in his car seat by himself. Most of the time, that is completely acceptable. I'll buckle Hayden into her seat while Tristan climbs into his, and then I'll buckle him and we'll go on our way. But not always. Last Sunday at church, the air conditioner wasn't working right. It was 80 degrees in the service, 10 degrees hotter than we're used to. After several hours of being hot(remember, Thad is the pastor, so we have to be there early and stay late),it was finally time to go home, and I carried all our stuff out to the car. I was so ready to sit down in that seat with the air vent blowing on me, when Tristan announced that he had a "stinky bum bum".

He loves to climb in himself!

Just what I wanted- to go back inside the stifling hot building and change a dirty diaper. I was sweating. It was 90 degrees outside, and the sun was beating down. I had just been through several hours of interacting with people, which is already exhausting for an introvert like me, and then I was dealing with the heat at the same time. I was touched out, irritated, and on edge. I seriously needed some air conditioning and some time to sit down and regain the sanity that I was barely holding onto at that point. I had already let Tristan climb into his car seat once, before he announced the dirty diaper, and I didn't have the patience left to let him do it again.





I knew if I just tried to put him into his seat, he'd throw an absolute fit. Tried that before. Total. Meltdown. This time, I tried something new. The whole time I was changing his diaper, I explained to him what was going to happen. I reminded him how he usually likes to climb into his seat by himself when we were getting into the car. Then I explained that he wasn't going to get to do that this time, and that mommy was just going to set him into his seat. He said that would be ok. As we walked out to the car, I reminded him again, twice, that instead of climbing into his seat, Mommy would be setting him up there this time. As we got to the seat, I said, "Ok, here we go, Mommy's putting you into your seat now!" There was absolutely no fussing! Not even a peep. Just because I explained it to him and gave him a heads up, he willingly let me do something that he normally would have absolutely freaked out over. It's amazing how far a little respect can go.






If this is a new concept for you, I encourage you to give it a little thought, and maybe try an experiment or two and see how your child reacts. Just put yourself in their shoes, and ask yourself what you could do to help your child make a transition, or to help them accept doing something that's necessary but not particularly pleasant. When you do have to impose something on them, try to remember to empathyze with them and validate their feelings. These principles have gone a long way in helping me build my relationships with my kids, and it feels really good when we work together towards something that we can all be happy about. I hope you find them helpful too.





I'd love it if you would share your experiences in the comments- whether you've been using similar principles for years, or whether this concept is brand new to you and you're trying it for the first time! Thanks for reading.

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Please join us all week, June 25-June30, 2012, as we explore the world of gentle, effective parenting. We have new posts each day by talented authors providing us with insight into why gentle parenting is worth your time and how to implement it on a daily basis. We are also giving away several parenting book and other goodies from our sponsors this week. Please stop by and enter to win! This year's beautiful motherhood artwork is by Patchwork Family Art. Visit the store to see all her work.

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A healthy discontent

I'll be honest- I tend towards obsession. This can be simultaneously a strength and a weakness of my personality. Sometimes I obsess about somewhat trivial things like which stroller or food processor to buy. (Although, in the moment, those things don't seem very trivial, but I digress.) I'll spend hours reading reviews, comparing models, and searching for the perfect deal. I won't mention the pro/con scoring sheets that may or may not have been created in the past. Nope! Moving on...



Sometimes I obsess about things that are important. I'll find something that I want to be good at, or an area where I need to improve personally, and just attack it. I'll read blogs, like facebook pages, join a relevant message board if one exists, read books and add more to my Amazon wish list, and spend lots and lots of time thinking about it and working on it. I'll do this until I've either learned everything I wish to know about the topic, or have completely exhausted my attention span, in which case I'll put the topic to rest for a while and get back to it later.



On one hand, this is a good thing. I'm able to be pretty honest with myself about areas where I need improvement, and then focus on improving them. I take myself seriously- not in an arrogant "I'm a big deal" kind of way, but in a "I want to be the best me I can be" kind of way. I do New Year's Resolutions, not because they're a cute tradition, but because to me New Years is a fresh start and a perfect time to set goals and for myself. This year I made a pretty detailed list of things I wanted to accomplish personally and what concrete steps I was going to take to make them happen. I'm a completely different person than I was 5 years ago, and I'm really proud of that fact.



The downside is that I too often expect perfection from myself. I'll walk by a closet that I cleaned out a couple of months ago, and start internally attacking myself because it's gotten messy again. It's not my first instinct to remember the three bags of stuff that I got rid of, and that the closet still looks tons better than it did before. My first instinct is to expect it to look totally neat and organized. That's a somewhat trivial, tangible example, but I often follow that same line of thought when it comes to the big things also. Too often I expect perfection, instead of being pleased with progress.



I have several women in my life that I really look up too. Most of them I don't know super well, but I know all of them well enough to know that I want to be like them. These women share my unique views about parenting, women, marriage, and Christianity. Not only do they have a great perspective on so many issues, but they're able to effectively share their wisdom with others. These women are awesome mothers, have amazing marriages, and are really making a difference in the world. That's who I want to be! That's what I want to do! And so often I get frustrated that I'm just not there yet! And then the other day it dawned on me. These women that I look up to are in their thirties, forties, or even fifties. How can I expect to be in the same place that they are at only 26? This is not the end of the road for me. I'm constantly growing and learning, and everyone has to start somewhere. If I grow and change even half as much in the next five years as I have in the last five years, then maybe I actually can start to look like the woman that I so desperately want to be. And I have no reason to believe that I won't be able to get there. I'm constantly learning, critiquing, evaluating, and growing. I'm not standing still, not by a long shot. So then why am I so hard on myself? Why can't I stop more often and celebrate the victories that I have acheived?

As I've been struggling with these thoughts, I came across this post at Health-bent that was really encouraging to me. Megan Keatley writes:

"Evaluating the way we look, act, and are received is simply part of being on Earth. The point I’m trying to make is that I believe it can be perfectly normal to take what society thinks is “good” + what you think is “good”; mesh it together to figure out what you want and is necessary, and go for it. It is truly a blessing and a curse. You’re constantly proud of the progress you’ve made and where you’re at, but slightly dissatisfied all the while thinking there’s more. Once you reach a goal you want to set a new one, etc…you know what I’m talking about. Let’s call it “healthfully dissatisfied”. Temporary satisfaction can usually be found when you know you have done all you can do and will continue to do so. And we believe dissatisfaction and insecurity lies where you know you haven’t."




That pretty eloquently describes how I feel! So maybe this is a good thing? I'm definitely proud of how far I've come, but I'm not willing to put down roots and stay here.




Then on Sunday night I stumbled across a blog I've never seen before, and read something that was equally challenging, but from another perspective. Beth Berry writes:




"My life right now is not as it should be. It should be some other way.

Can it be? Right this very moment, can your life be different? Not until you do something to make it different. There is no good that comes from dwelling on how it “should be.” The truth is, it shouldn’t be any different, because IT ISN’T! Instead, an embrace of what is allows for an opportunity to be fully present and more attentive to the beauty of now. This is one of those limitations that I’m still very much in the throws of. These days it manifests itself as, “I should be doing more – I should be writing more, cooking more, studying more Spanish, investing more time in my kids, the Maya, my parents, my friends, my grandparents.” It’s a pretty awful feeling and one that I intend to conquer, as long as it takes me. When I catch myself, I can see the fallacy in my thinking, but its roots are deep and stubborn and consistent weeding takes some real discipline."




And that's so true too. Sometimes I need to be able to just slow down and enjoy the moment, and not worry about which mountain I'm going to conquer next. Each day already has enough joy for me to savor if I'll slow down long enough to notice it. I encourage you to go and read the rest of that post- there are some really good nuggets in there that I didn't touch on at all.

So maybe, just like everything else in life, this is about balance? I need to find a balance between having a healthy discontentment with where I'm at, and yet taking the time to slow down and enjoy exactly where I am right now and how far I've come already. Maybe I'll make finding that balance my new obsession...

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