What's on YOUR list?

You can justify just about anything, but you can’t fool yourself (try as you might). 

When something feels wrong, you can’t shake that feeling despite trying to tell yourself its no big deal or that everyone is doing it.  I have been brushing off that sinking feeling for a while now, and as is often the case, my six year old illuminated things for me.  It was 6am.  I was on the couch alone with my phone when my daughters woke up and joined me.  I tucked the iphone aside.  After having a snuggle, I asked my daughter if she would please bring me my glasses.  When she returned from my bedroom with my glasses and my slippers (dear, sweet thing) I again had my phone in hand....just for "two seconds" while I finished a Facebook post (ironically, a post about my children).  She sat down next to me and began to draw.  Inspired by her efforts to bring me what I needed to start my day, she said she was drawing, “What Mama needs when she gets up in the morning.” Glasses, coffee, slippers, bathrobe, phone.  Ugh. She looked at me, smiling, proud of her drawings.  

This is what she thinks is important to me first thing in the morning. 

I can only imagine my expression.  I felt horrified. “How about snuggling?” I asked (no doubt with pleading eyes).  “That’s something I need every morning.”  So she added snuggling.  Sensing my sadness (she is so wise that way) she began to add “things Mama likes to do” to her picture...smiling, laughing, picking her up from school.  We both smiled.  She was trying to make me feel better, though I’m sure she didn’t really understand why a cloud had passed across my face.

I am connected with so many people via my phone - texting, emailing, social Facebooking, business Facebooking, an app that connects me to my website, Scrabble.  But the people I should be most connected with, the people who matter more to me than anything, don’t deserve the distracted-ness that all of this connectedness creates.  I am disheartened by what I am missing while I am behind my screen, by the example I am setting for my children, and by what I might be doing to their self esteem when they feel like they need to compete with my phone for my attention. Do I really want my phone to be on my daughters list of things she thinks are most important to me?  How did this happen?

As a business owner I have convinced myself that I need to be in constant contact.  The truth is, this is a bit of a pretext.  Certainly, not all of the “contact” I have relates to business.   I need to find a way to be accessible without my phone becoming an extension of my hand.  I need to set some rules and stick to them.  I can lessen the barrage of bells, chimes and beeps currently set to go off on my phone by turning off some of my myriad of notifications. I can check my phone periodically when I am with the children, but I don’t need to respond to everything immediately.   Scrabble can wait, as can Facebook, for when my children are not with me.  

The fact that this seems like it is going to be really hard to do is exactly why I need to do it. If I haven’t convinced you to join me, I dare you to read this post by Hands Free Mama.

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.  

iCamp

My family has part ownership of a rustic wood cabin built by a group of my great grandfather’s friends back in 1906.  It sits on a secluded pond surrounded by over 200 acres of woodland.  When I get out of my car there I breathe deeply, taking in the smell of the deep pine woods.  Just being there moves me, and passion for this place runs deeply through my family.  I watch my children and the children of my brother and my cousins frolic in the pond in just the way we did as children.  I see my parents enjoying time with their grandchildren in just the way I imagine my grandparents and great grandparents did before them.  Sometimes I well up just reflecting on the simple beauty of that - the indelible connection to family past, present, and future.

There has never been a land line at “Camp” (as we call it).  There was a time when if you needed to use a phone, you had to go to a neighboring house up the road.  There has never been a television.  It is simple and timeless, except...

These days when we go to camp, with me and my extended family come cell phones, iPhones, iPads, DVD players, laptops...I think on this last trip handheld devices may have outnumbered people two to one.  

Don't get me wrong, I am so grateful for wireless technology.  My small business has hit the ground running. Honestly, I would not have felt comfortable going away at all this summer had I not been accessible to potential clients and to contractors working on the school.  

For us grown-ups, I have accepted that having iPhones or cell phones at the ready is a necessary evil, even at Camp.  However (call me a hypocrite if you must), I still cannot get to that place of feeling they are a necessity for the children, particularly when we are in such a historically “unplugged” location.  

My family is amazing.  My siblings, cousins and I get along really well, despite often differing parenting styles.  If we can't agree we can usually laugh about it, sometimes pretty hardily.  As my family members read this, some will roll their eyes, while others will be giving me a virtual high five.  A good natured ribbing in each direction will likely ensue. 

There is no doubt that each of us loves the camp and (obviously) the children.  We all want the children to experience the joys of nature, and there is no doubt they do.   The kids run and swim and fish and row until they drop...and then they want their iPads...and maybe that’s just fine.  

Maybe I am just too nostalgic, but to me Camp should be about time spent enjoying simple pleasures. I love the idea of my children engaging in the same quintessentially “Camp” activities that were enjoyed in turn by my grandfather, my father and me...even if that includes occasional boredom. 

My grandfather probably couldn’t have imagined the kind of technology now available in this cabin in the middle of the woods, yet somehow I imagine him arguing that being at Camp without these amenities builds character.  Though, I can also imagine he would quickly be in favor of a way for the adults to enjoy a quiet drink on the porch in the evening without interruption.

Do you allow your children to bring video games, iPads and the like with you on vacation? If so, do you place limits on their use?  Do you feel that they have an impact on the overall experience, or are they a non-issue?

The Elephant in the Yard

I have noticed with my daughters (ages 3 and 6), that often when I am sitting down, watching them play (or hoping to), there is suddenly a fog of boredom that wafts through the room.  Conflicts seem to more readily arise between them.  Conversely, when I am physically busy with chores or hobbies, the children either want to help, or they respect the tasks at hand and become industrious in their own parallel way.  Perhaps the feeling is that if I am “just” sitting there, I am available to resolve all conflicts (therefore why not create more, since we have a built in referee?) and I should also, obviously, entertain them.  Yet  when left to their own devices, they can resolve conflicts and create more imaginative games than I ever could.  I think it is so important to give them these opportunities to play and to navigate how to treat one another without my constant input. 

Sometimes the chores of the day capture the children’s interest, and they ask to help.  Laundry, dishes and cleaning tasks can all be rewarding work for them, but what thrills them the most is the real work that happens outside - digging, weeding, watering, planting, mulching, harvesting.  Gardens are magical, even to me as an adult.  I still find myself a bit surprised when a seed I have tended emerges as a food producing plant!  

One day recently, my husband decided to make a koi pond in our backyard.  He spent hours digging a big hole for the pond.  The girls were initially fascinated, and though the excitement waned a bit while the afternoon stretched on, they matched his industriousness with their own digging in the sandbox, as well as helping me to weed and water the garden beds.  Beau set up a table with a notepad and pen, and like a mini archeologist, she rinsed, examined and documented the random items being uncovered in the excavation site...marbles, pottery, whiffle ball, hair clip, coal, elephant?  We passed an entire afternoon busily and contentedly in our little backyard.  (I have a really cute picture of Ruby to add here, but she is one of those new-age, garden-in-your-underwear types).

Sometimes we adults don’t feel like being industrious, and I am not insinuating that we  shouldn’t sit down and relax now and then. Children need to have down time too, and its good for them to see us taking care of ourselves.  I am simply reflecting on how our own work, whether it is done with the assistance of our children or merely in their vicinity,  is an important factor in the children developing their own sense of confidence and self worth.  Whether they are learning how entertain themselves, how to get along with their siblings or how to fold laundry, they feel empowered by these experiences.  Their will is strengthened by being treated like a welcomed and competent helper, as well as by not always needing to be helped. 

Food for thought:  Sometimes the tasks at hand can take a little longer (okay, a lot longer) when we are assisted by our young children.  But look at it this way - if we do not honor their pleas to participate in our family work now when the desire to be included is so heartfelt, do we still have the right to complain when they get older and no longer have any desire or inclination to contribute?