Its Not What You First Think

I don’t know about you, but I occasionally come across some little nugget of wisdom in a blog or on Facebook (usually in a blog on Facebook) and I think, “Ooh, that’s a gem.”  If the spirit moves me I pass it along to others.  I may set the intention of remembering that thought or idea, weaving it into my daily life...and then “my daily life” happens and the intention slips away, usually without the awareness that anything was lost. 

A little while back, a dear friend, Erin Goodman, wrote a blog post that effected me in this way.    She wrote of how she had created a morning ritual for herself, wherein she would wake early and sit, listening to some soft music, and drink her coffee or tea before her children awoke and the day was set in motion.  Actually, the post was about how much she had enjoyed this ritual, and then it slipped away, and it was her wise eight year old daughter who mentioned (in her own way) how much she enjoyed the serenity to which she awoke when her mom practiced this morning ritual. Mama spinning in the kitchen, pushing breakfast, packing lunches, confirming schedules set one tone. Mama sitting in a chair with her coffee and soft music set quite another.  Erin had the realization that this ritual she had practiced not only effected her own morning, but that of her whole family.  

At the time mornings in my house were dreadful.  Literally, I was full of dread about that hour between waking up and getting into the car for work and school.  For the first time since my children were born (now three and six years old) I had to set an alarm to get out of bed, wake the children, and get ready to go, go, go.  This whole process was complicated by the fact that I am not what you would call a “morning person” and I fear I may have passed on this gene.  The Stewart ladies enjoy a slow start to the day.  The second and quite possibly more tortuous  complication was that, having spent most of the summer like this...

my three year old wanted no part of actual clothes.  {“Bring her to school in her pajamas,” said Miss Barbara.  “Um, she doesn’t wear pajamas,” said I.} The beauty of being a "stay at home" mom, when faced with a willful three year old, is that you often (not always, but often) have the leisure of saying, “We can’t go to (insert activity here) until you are dressed appropriately.”  This does not quite work when you are faced with having to leave for work, like, now.  

Flash forward a month or so and mornings are a lot less painful.  We have figured out the tricks.  Some are obvious, like packing the lunches and having the girls pick out their clothes the night before...things I knew (and had no doubt suggested to other parents) but perhaps I was just too tired or overwhelmed to follow through with myself.  Admittedly, not every morning is smooth (fine, we may have woken some neighbors this morning with some high pitched shrieking en route to the car) but for the most part we have settled into a less painful morning routine.  

When I read Erin’s post, though it resonated with me, I just didn’t see how sitting mindfully and blissfully with a cup of coffee was going to fit into the craziness of our mornings.  

Then this morning I opened an email that contained a poem by one of my favorite poets, Brian Andreas.  I immediately thought of Erin and her wisdom.

It is not what you first think.

There is no effort of will,

no firm resolve in the face

of this thing called living.

There is only paying attention

to the quiet each morning,

while you hold your cup

in the cool air

& then 

that moment

you choose 

to spread your 

love like a cloth

upon the table

and invite the whole day

in again.

I believe

my alarm clock

will be set

a bit earlier

tomorrow. 

{You can Erin Goodman’s post and find lots of other Erin Goodman goodness here.}

Disoriented

After putting in lots of work hours this week (including a twelve hour day on Friday with the intention of being “present” with my family this weekend - physically as well as mentally) I was looking forward to spending a whole day at home with my children.  Unfortunately, the day was not going well.  A somewhat relaxed morning suddenly turned stormy when my eldest daughter morphed before my eyes into someone she is typically not (though this alter ego has made a few unpleasant appearances this summer).  Leaving a bawling sibling and a fleeing cat in her wake, she stomped through the house “accidentally” knocking things over and saying unpleasant things “to herself.”   Coming from her petite, fair haired frame with her bright, shining eyes it is almost comical. 

Almost.  But really it is sad to see her feeling so off.  I can tell she doesn’t like the things she is saying and doing, but the momentum takes over and she is forced to roll with it.  Quite frankly, when this happens I don’t know what to do to help her - to help us, for heaven’s sake. I was once again baffled as to why she was acting this way (and on my day off - the nerve!).  Then it came to me - the words of renowned teacher and parenting expert, Kim John Payne, which were shared with me just the other night by my dear friend, Barbara Nardone:

“There is no such thing as a disobedient child; only a disoriented one.” 

Eureka.  I stayed home with my daughter every day for her first three years of life.  From the age of three she began attending preschool three days per week, but if you think about it, that involved her leaving me, and not the reverse.  She always knew I was at home if she needed me.  Suddenly, I am gone five days a week and she is sharing her weekdays with a combination of friends, babysitters and family. Some weekdays my husband has been able to arrange his schedule so that he is home part of the day, but even that is different.  It used to be that “stay at home daddy days” were days for the whole family to be together, now it usually means I’m not home.  Her whole world has been turned upside down.  I’d say that’s a pretty good reason to be “disoriented”.  

I can’t beat myself up about going back to work.  I am so excited about starting this new chapter in my life, and I am proud to be showing my girls a whole other side of me they have never seen - a confident, competent career woman.  I want them to believe they can do whatever they set their hearts and minds to doing - including being a mom who also has a career, if that is what they choose.  

But there are things I can do to help her to feel less disoriented.  I can be aware of how this change is effecting my children.  Awareness is half the battle in most relationships, isn’t it?  I can do my best to establish a predictable routine for my family.  Children thrive on routines.  Routines make them feel secure and confident.  I can give her a pass when she needs to let off some steam (within reason of course).  We all want to kick a wall sometimes, don’t we?  I can really be present  when I am present.  Yes, as a business owner I always need to be reachable in case of flood or fire, but I do not need to answer every text, email and phone call I receive on family time.  She needs to know that the iPhone does not trump her in importance.  Of course I  know that, but is it fair to assume she does?  Of course not.  

P.S. The photo is one of MANY silly self portraits she has snapped of herself with my phone (in happier moments). I feel I should explain that I would not belittle her emotions by snapping pictures of her when she is actually upset.  

Nature's Ninjas

One of my fondest memories of childhood involves the large, golden field that lay beside my parents' house.  The soft, lush grass was about a foot and a half high.  I remember wandering out into that sea of grass as it rippled and danced in the wind, planting myself in the middle of it, and laying flat on my back.  There, in my own cozy nest, I would spend a lazy afternoon gazing up at the sky, searching for shapes in the clouds and being alone with my thoughts.  If I close my eyes I can bring myself back there...to the sounds, smells and even the physical sensation of laying there, shoeless in the grass.  

Today when my little one laid down in an patch of grass akin to that of my childhood memory, I was wistful and nostalgic, and {deep down} thinking about ticks.  Does this photo make you feel joyful...or nervous?

 

“Nature’s Ninjas” - I read that term last year (I cannot recall where) and its so apt.  Did you know that they sense the carbon dioxide we exhale and literally leap onto us?  Did you know they have a natural anesthetic in their saliva so we don’t feel them bite?   Recently a tick went through my washer and dryer and came out seemingly unscathed.  How is that possible?  If you live in New England, you’re crazy not to be worried about ticks.  Lyme and other tick borne illnesses are no joke, and I am afraid they are here to stay.  

But I refuse to allow this fear to cause me to de-nature my children.  I will check those kids over head to toe at night like a mama gorilla if I must, but just look at the bliss on her face.  How could I discourage her from interacting with nature in the way that children do...fully, viscerally, with all of her being? 

What measures do you take to protect your family from tick borne illnesses?  Do you find yourself afraid to let your children explore nature fully?  We are trying Nix Ticks from Lily’s Garden Herbals this year, its an all natural, plant derived tick repellent spray (www.lilysgardenherbals.com).