May 24, 2013

Today I packed the last school lunch of my parenting career. I thoughtfully made her sandwich, tucked it into Tupperware, added some snacks, and wrote a love note for good measure wishing her a wonderful last day of high school. The tears burned in the back of my eyes and did not fall. Then we drove to school together for the last time.

The funny thing is packing lunches is one of the tasks of motherhood that I detested the most through the years. As a result, I taught my girls to pack their own lunches early in their school careers. I started training them in first grade and by second grade they were completing this job unsupervised. Protein, fruit, and vegetable, I would hear them double checking just as I had taught them.

This year, knowing it was my last, I heartfully packed her lunch every day. Each day was an opportunity to fill her lunch sack with my love and caring as I sent her out into the world. It is interesting to me how our perspective can shift over time. This was no longer a chore I dreaded; it was a task I cherished. And now it is complete.

They told me the years would roll by faster than I could imagine and I believed them. “Them” being my mother, grandmother, and every other person from an older generation who had raised children. Still, I could not fully understand this until now. Treasuring each moment of every morning this week, knowing a chapter in my life was coming to a close. There are no words to describe the fullness in my chest and the mixture of emotions running through me.

There will be more special moments, chapters closing and opening, and more days of celebration in the years ahead. And I know that when she accepts that diploma on Saturday, whether inside or outside, I will cry.

My tears are filled with wonderful memories of all the days we drove to school and back. Days where the drive was silent and others filled with arguments so loud I chose to pull over and get out of the car until things simmered down. (One of the times I pulled to the side of the road, a highway patrol officer pulled over to make sure we were okay. Needless to say, that kept them well behaved in the car for weeks!) There were days prepping for vocabulary tests forgotten till the moment we walked out the door and others where the sanctuary of my Volvo wagon provided a place to discuss the secrets of their hearts.

I am grateful for all those days now and even more grateful for the opportunity to share in Kate’s last day of high school. Her sister was driving herself on her last day, so this was not an experience I had with her.Today, Kate was driving me and yet we were together.

I know this is merely a turn in the road for us and there are many more memories to be made ahead. And this knowing does not prevent the tears from welling up. The pain in my chest is a welcome reminder of the love we share and the privilege it is to be a mother and share in their lives so intimately.

May 17, 2013

Don’t do anything for a child that the child can do for him/herself.
~Positive Discipline Jane Nelsen

Easier said than done, in my humble opinion. At the same time, a goal I find worthy of my effort whenever I remember this sage advice.

After reading the recent New York Times article, “When Helping Hurts” by Eli J. Finkel, I was thinking how this applies no matter the age of your child. Whether they are 4 or 24. I am not aware of ever having a met a parent who had the goal of hurting their children. And yet, there are loving actions that can ultimately have that outcome if we are not attuned to what is truly needed.

My style is to rescue, rush to make ‘right’, spare my children discomfort and pain. Some times it is motivated by the need to make them feel better and, to be honest, sometimes it’s my own control issue about how and when something gets done. Either way I interfere with them learning and developing life skills for themselves.

When I am disentangled, I realize these situations are offering them opportunities to develop their own problem solving skills, experience the law of cause and effect, and build self-esteem. As a parent, why would I interfere with those wonderful outcomes?

“Well…I don’t mean to, it’s just that….” Can you feel me blushing and fumbling for a reason??

I mean, we are responsible for preparing them to live independent lives…right?

Here is where courage comes in. Breathing into my heart, I ask “what is mine to do here?” This is tough when I see so clearly how and when it needs to be done or they are wailing with disappointment that is growing into despair. My advice on both counts is ‘give it a minute’.

In truth, my daughters often show me a multitude of ways that things can be accomplished. Mine is NOT the only way from point A to point B. I grow as much as they do when I get out of the way.

Truly I love doing for my girls. There are times when it is appropriate to fly in, my Super Mom cape flapping the breeze behind me, and save the day! They love it and my ego does too.

Then there are those ‘in between’ times. These are times when guidance is needed and it is possible to assist without taking over. Asking rather than telling is a great tool I use in these circumstances. By asking questions with a point in mind, children get to discover answers for themselves. This gets them to think for themselves rather than me filling their brain with ‘what I know’. This is especially helpful with teens who are programmed to tune out most of what you say anyway.

Here are some examples of asking rather than telling:

• What do you think will happen if you pour the milk holding the jug with your teeth?
• Is there enough time to complete that college application by tomorrow and see the band tonight?
• Will you be warm enough without your coat?
• Do you think the cat enjoys being thrown across the room?

I’m being funny with some of those…obviously…and I hope those ideas get your brain rolling with how this could work for you.

It’s exhausting as a parent to be in charge all the time. I encourage you to embrace moments where you can step back or let go completely. Watch your children grow and see what amazing beings they are growing into. Yes, a 2 year old can scramble eggs with supervision and an 18 year old can complete her college application on her own, with me in the next room available if needed. School aged children can pack their own lunches, with some guidance and a teenager can walk into a place of business and apply for a job, on their own, with some helpful question prepping ahead of time. It always helps to add in a verbal “I believe in you!” for encouragement.

How do you inspire confidence and capability in your children?
What was the hardest thing you had to let go of and let them figure out?
What did your child do as a result that surprised you?

May 6, 2013

In life and in work we have hours, minutes, plans and obligations. But love stops the clock. Love is time out of time. In it we measure things not in terms of what we have done, must do, or how soon or late we will do them, but in terms of bliss – of being suspended in a state where time and obligations are irrelevant.

This is one of love’s greatest gifts: that it connects us with the endless eternal; it acquaints us with the beauty of timelessness.

~From 365 Days of Love By Daphne Rose Kingma

Moments can take your breath away. Time stands still. Life stops in its tracks.
To pause and allow your heart to be fully captured in this timelessness refreshes, invigorates, and nurtures you.

The moment can be profound by what it is or what it is not. It could be hearing words from another you have always longed to hear or as simple as looking up through your sunroof at an ideal moment to catch a glimpse of the full moon with a beautiful star hovering just beneath. It could be a peaceful, joy filled family dinner at the end of a hectic day or a spontaneous adventure to splash in puddles in the rain with your children.

These are moments filled with love. When I pause, recognize this is a gift, and breath it in…. my heart is fed, enlivened and forever blessed by a moment in time. How easy it is to miss a moment in the flurry of life, business obligations, mental preoccupations, running ‘to-do’ lists in my head, looking to the next thing of the day rather than being present

Parenting offers a multitude of timeless moments that are easy to overlook. When my girls were little, I had the privilege of being a stay at home mom. This meant I was with them all day every day and yet days could go by without me taking a moment to breathe them in and enjoy our time together. It was all too easy to be consumed by the diapers to wash, rooms to clean, meals to prepare, and errands to run.

Realizing I was missing out on something rich, I committed to set aside a specific amount of time each day to fully immersed myself in them. The phone was not answered and no chores were done. Fully present to them, all our hearts were fed.

Soon this translated into the stolen moments I found for myself. Occasionally, I would go out for a few hours in the evening alone to get some ‘down time’. There were times I would return and feel none the better for my time away. On other nights, I would allow myself to pause and truly relish the silence, bask in the ease of hearing my own inner voice, and embrace the luxury of languishing in my own thoughts and feelings. These were moments that fed my heart because they were filled with love and I would return to my family with my cup full and ready to give again.

My daughters are now grown and life is not as hectic as it once was for me. Still, I find it important to remind myself to pause and breathe in the beautiful moments. My heart is deeply blessed when I fully embrace time shared with my girls, even a simple chatty breakfast before we all head out into the day. Knowing I allowed this time into my heart reassures me that the moment may be forgotten along the way and yet my heart will hold it forever.

What moments in your life truly feed you? Bring bliss to your existence?
It only takes a moment to pause, notice the simple beauty you are surrounded with, and breathe it into your heart where it will live forever.

I encourage you to find at least one moment this week to let time stop, breathe it in, and see what a difference it makes in your world. Then share it here so we can all be blessed by your moment in time!

April 12, 2013

In a society that preaches and teaches being powerful, what teaches us how to be powerless? As I watched Life of Pi, this question seized my heart. Watching Pi fight for survival, using the supplies he had, and his will to live; powerlessness still came at him over and over again. How do we learn to live with powerlessness in day-to-day life? How do we know when to use our will and when to surrender? The obvious answers that came from the film were nature and life itself. There are things we cannot control.

Then, another answer clearly spoke softly to me…and parenting.

Parenting is a life long lesson in powerlessness for me. As a young parent, I expected myself to be all powerful as the ‘big’ one to this ‘little’ one who had been gifted to me. It was not long before this myth began to shatter.

There were fevers and boo-boos I could not prevent, including a small one biting through her tongue while jumping off a coffee table. I felt powerful in my ability to comfort and give medicine knowing that I could make this better. Then there was the time when my overly tired child had a full-blown tantrum in the middle of the shopping mall. Wallering in the floor, thrashing about, screaming and wailing, I sat and waited it out. Strangers walking by would look about to see if a parent was nearby, would see me 15 feet away (the nearest seat), I would nod and they would walk on. Some shook their heads in disgust or disbelief; others smiled knowingly. I was powerless and could only wait out the storm. The tantrum lasted less than five minutes. It felt like eternity to me. Slowly, I learned to embrace this state with grace.

When my oldest was 13, she was crying in her bed over something or someone that had hurt her feelings. There was nothing I could do except love her and be a witness to her pain with faith in her to help herself. I remember vividly saying to her, “When you were little, Mama could make the hurts better. Now you are bigger and I can’t fix everything anymore. I can hold you and love you. And I believe in you to be big enough to get through this on your own.” She cried harder as I held her. When I went to bed that night, I cried too. She was growing up and out of my reach.

As our children grow and spread their wings, this state becomes more constant. As they drive away for the first time in our car (yikes!), have their first adventures/mishaps in love, choose which parent to live with, and on and on. Each time I learned more about trusting them and their angels because there was nothing much I could do.

I came to see that parenting is a journey in letting go, a little more each year, until they know they can fly on their own. This is evolution and is supported by our belief in them.

This is powerlessness with grace.