Our family’s ban on being busy and in a hurry

When is the last time you talked to someone and they didn’t say they WEREN’T busy?!
A conversation usually goes like this:

“How are you guys?”
“Oh you know, we’ve got such n such going on and then there’s such n such coming up. We’re runnin’ from one thing to the next.”
“Oh I know. We are so busy too.”

It’s so common place that we come to expect people to say they are busy. And we think nothing of it when we say how busy we are.

But we should.

When’s the last time you WEREN’T hurrying to get somewhere?  Didn’t have adrenaline rushing through your veins on the way to work or to drop off your kiddos?

All this being busy and hurrying everywhere reeks havoc on our nervous system. It keeps us in stress mode. And that effects EVERY system in us – immune system, digestive…you name it.

And our children???

Our children’s generation is the first to be so darn rushed all the time from a young age on. What do we think is going to be the impact on our children’s developing brains, hearts, bodies, and relationships to be so hurried all the time, to be so in stress mode all the time???

Well the other night, I had enough. I had enough of treating the clock as a god. I had enough of hurrying my kiddos to eat breakfast and get out the door and into the car to go to school.  I was appalled at how the doctor and nurse (though knowledgable and kind) hurried our daughter through her three-year old check up with rushed hands — and how they probably did this with every other child that day and no other parent thought ANYTHING of it.  Why? Because we are used to it!  We are used to our bodies and presence not being regarded as sacred.

Well, enough, I said.

Sitting at the breakfast table…late…I looked around and I thought, “this is crazy. Our culture has lost all regard for honoring the sacredness of the body, for reverencing and honoring its flow. I refuse to teach my children to not honor their bodies. Let them sleep. Let them eat. Peacefully. And Brian and I are doing nothing for our relationship with our kiddos to be on them and hurrying them. Enough. I call for a family ban on being busy and in a hurry.”

Maybe it’s this mid-life shift thing I’m going through (it’s not a crisis and it’s not an awakening. I’m awake. Now I’m just takin’ action n shiftin’ stuff. Big time.).  I’m taking more responsibility for MY life and how I want to live it. No one else is going to be at my deathbed with me and the divine.

It’s going to be me and the Big G reflecting back on my life and asking, “Did I love fully?  Did I live fully?”

It won’t be: “Did I get the kiddos to soccer practice on time?”

Instead I’ll recall images of me and Brian being present with our children.  I’ll recall regarding them and seeing, really SEEING, their needs…and responding to them.  I’ll recall holding Little C. for awhile longer even though we are late for a playdate.  I’ll recall letting Big A. sleep in, leisurely being with him (with my eyes, my attention, my tone of voice), and then going to school.  I’ll recall the times I remembered what is most important.

mutual regard

So it’ll take some time (ha!) to get the busy and the hurry out of our nervous systems. But I am committing myself to “the ban on busy”. I’m committing myself to not being in a hurry.  To slowing it all down.  And really, there is no time to be in a rush.  Life is precious.  Short and precious.

This is what love feels like

This is What Love Feels Like

Laying down
for a nap
with my daughter

curled up with
my belly
to her back
my arms
around her
little almost
three year old
body

little feet
resting on
my thighs

rhythmic
breathing
deeply
together

we sleep

sacred
holy
complete

this
is
what
love
feels
like.

Lisa A. McCrohan, 2013

Mindful Moment: Stay and Soften

One evening in December, our bedtime ritual started out like to does every night:  brushing teeth, pjs, a book, a few songs, a prayer (sometimes we sing it!), and me laying with our two year old daughter while Brian lays with our five year old son.

Our son, he is out in like two minutes.  Kindergarten does that to a boy!  Our daughter, she loves to chat, sing, lay there, ask for more milk, cuddle.  Most nights, I savor it.  I linger with Little C.  I whisper my prayers.  I lay there in the quiet, holding her, listening to her breathe…and then ask another question.  When Little C was a few months old, I wrote this poem:

My Skin Remembers

In the dark stillness of the early morning,

before the first glimmers of dawn appear through our bedroom window,

Brian brings Clara to me for an early morning feeding.

She is half awake half asleep now nuzzled next to me.

Her little feet rest on my bare belly as she wraps one arm over my chest

and tucks the other under my breast to nurse.

I am laying on my side, my left arm stretched out on the bed

and heat from the top of Clara’s head warms the inside of my elbow.

My right arm wraps around her tiny, plump, six month old body.

Our bellies touching rise and fall together in a soft rhythm.

Though my body begs for more sleep, I don’t mind being up so early

before the sunlight slowly dances into our room.

I know now with my second child that this will not last forever.

There will come a day when I will long to hold my babies again

just      like     this

and my skin will ache with nostalgia.

But this morning, I also know that when that day comes,

a smile will rise up from within me

as my skin remembers breathing in

this

very

moment.

Butttttt….there are times when I am think “O.M.G., you gotta go to sleep!”  I am tired, needing space, needing to be on my own for a bit.  And that’s when my meditation practice comes into play.

“It’s ok to feel this way, Lisa.”

“It’s ok to want time alone, to need space.”

In those moments, I try to remind myself to practice self-compassion instead of beating myself up with mama guilt “Oh I shouldn’t feel this way!  I should be oh-so-very present AND loving every minute of it.  Why don’t I feel that way? What’s wrong with ME?  So-and-so…you’d never hear that from her!  She loves everything about being a mom….”  It goes on, doesn’t it?  Well, instead of going down THAT path, ….

I pause.  I stay with what is rising up.  I don’t push it away.  I just stay.  I hold my heart and my needs and my yearnings close, with breath and spaciousness.  I soften.  And the once intense emotions and thoughts shift.

What rises up is a sense of “ahhhh, ok.  I’m ok.  This is ok.”  And then I’m able to make a clearer, more compassionate choice.

So back to this one night in December…

I thought my Little C. was asleep.  I slowly rolled out of her bed and started to get up to leave.

“Mommy, where you going?”

OHHHH I could’ve lost it.  I was tired.  It was late.  I felt my feet on the earth (on our “beautiful” carpet stained with milk and god knows what else!), I softened, breathed…

And then Little C. continued, “Mama, you stay with me?”

STAY WITH ME.  These words cut riiiight through to what is most important.  Right through any frustration, tiredness, need for alone time.

I turned back into the room, got into bed again with Little C., and said, “Yes, my Love, I’ll stay with you.” 

We laid like that for a long while.  Just in silence.  Me — softening, letting it all go, noticing, allowing.

And then Little C. whispers – half asleep, half awake, “Mommy?”

Me: “Yes, Love?”

Little C.: “I love you.”

Then she fell sound asleep.

As I pulled the covers up over her little chest, as I walked out of the quiet room, I thought about how that could’ve gone comPLETELY different.  There are times it has — when I’m like, “BABY!  You gotta go to sleep!”  Times when I lay there but I’m not really present.  Times when I am tired and under resourced.  And I react.  Instead of respond.  And as I walked out of the room, I found myself oh so grateful for the intention I set years ago to be a mindful mama, for how that has informed my practice of SOFTENING, tending to, allowing, being with, being gentle IN OUR EVERYDAY LIFE.  I found myself bowing to the community of moms and  dads who are on this journey of healing our world through being RIGHT HERE, present to and regarding our little ones.

STAY.  STAY AND SOFTEN.  With our own hearts, with our little ones.  I am finding that the more I offer myself such sweet spaciousness, the more I am able to extend that to my dear ones.  And I smile softly, with no regrets.

I can’t

Moms.  We are a powerful bunch.  Blood, vomit, skinned knees and elbows, broken bones, broken hearts, lost lovies, middle of the night hugs and holding.  Can’t find your favorite blanket?  No problem.  Want to play basketball this winter?  We’ll get you there.  Gotta do a fundraiser?  Let’s do it.  We make it happen.  We handle it.

But in a world of perfect pinterest pictures and crafts and recipes; in a world where ultimately the buck stops with us; in a world where many of us don’t have the luxury of generations of women with us throughout the day…

…we can feel responsible…for EVERYthing.  How our children act and feel, how the house looks, the finances, menus for meals, making sure our kiddos get enough rest and love and warm clothes and friends and piano practice and exposure to the arts, birthday parties, homemade cupcakes, the right presents…etc etc.

We are the family’s pediatrician, chef, party planner, CPA, soccer coach, chauffeur, social planner, interior designer, hair dresser, breadwinner, school board rep, historian and picture taker…

We get up. We make it happen.  Kiddos are bathed and dressed and sometimes we are, too.

But over the years, though I have felt this ever increasing surge of “at the end of the day, I’m responsible for it all,” I have also found myself saying, “I can’t do it.”

And more and more on a regular basis.

This morning was one of those “I can’t” days.

I can’t stay up till midnight editing family pictures in time for today’s party and get up early and not be exhausted.  I can’t be present to my kiddos when they seem to really just need ME this morning and do the final touches on my presents for family.  I can’t make homemade butternut squash soup, vacuum (at least the main floor!), straighten up, clean the main bathroom, get dressed, get the kiddos fed and happy and off each other, get Christmas cards in the mail, get to mass, get ready for the party at our house WHILE BRIAN IS AT WORK.

I can’t do it alone.

“I can’t do it,” I found myself silently saying to myself as I threw the unbaked butternut squash back into the frig and responded harshly to the kiddos asking for a snack and looked at the disaster of a kitchen.  I called Brian, “I can’t do it.”

A tightness gripped my stomach and spread up to my throat.  I had to admit I couldn’t do it today.

I am not super mom. And though I don’t try to be, I admit, there are times I feel “responsible” as though I were super mom.

Today, this morning, I am tired and cranky and alone mom.  I am  frazzled mom.  I am in-need-of-a-nap-and-some-help mom.  I am in-need-of-breakfast mom.

I couldn’t and I didn’t.

Unknowingly, my dear friend and neighbor happened to call in the middle of it all.  “I’m going to the Common Market, do you need anything?”

God bless you!  “Yes, I need twine!”

“Twine?”

“Yes, twine.  To wrap the cards I made for the girls in my family.”

“I’ve got some.  It’s in tangled in a ball — the kiddos got to it and….”

She didn’t even have to explain.  I got it.  And she got me!

My five year old, who is always spot on and honest and an extrovert who shares, “Mom, you’re kind of like Aunt Petunia this morning (the awful aunt in Harry Potter).  What gives?” And he gave me a hug.

So Brian came.  I slept.  He made the soup, put Clara down for a nap, and straightened up enough.  And from upstairs, I heard…nothing.  And it was beautiful.

I received their kindness today.

We’ve all heard, “Tis better to give than to receive.”

Nope.  It’s harder to receive.  When you give, you are in control.  You are “on top.”  Often someone feels indebted to you.  You get a warm, fuzzy feeling and often a warm and verbose “THANK YOU!”

When you receive…you are brought to the vulnerable raw, helpless, needy parts of yourself.  You are humbled by your own weakness and often times…brokenness.

It’s hard to be in that place.  God forbid we admit being needy and vulnerable and unable to “make it happen.”

Over the years of having kiddos I have been brought to my knees many times — in prayer, sleep deprived and exhausted rocking and nursing, to the toilet vomiting (mine or my kiddos), the floor wiping up god knows what spilled, and into the arms of my Brian saying, “I can’t do it.”

It’s hard to admit that.  But I can’t.  I can’t be present to my kiddos and get a million things done.  I can’t be on the PTA, our CPA, FB, or…some other acronym…and cook homemade meals, blog every day, work, write, do yoga, meditate…..blah blah blah.

So I don’t.

But I can do a few things. And do them with love and attention and kindness.  And that’s what my life is about — being mindful of slowing down, of noticing what really matters, of being ok with not having it all together.  That’s what parenting is teaching me.

I…we all..can do one thing in a moment instead of mulit-tasking and busying our lives and doing a crappy job at it.

We can sllllllllow down.

Leave the dishes.  Forget nicely wrapped presents.  Slow down and receive the moment.

Receive…

This breath.

This hug from your little one,

this Grace,

this help,

this kindness from others.

And so, this morning, my “act of kindness” was to myself (and ultimately, my family!).  I took a nap so I’d wake up as Lisa. Not Aunt Petunia.  Lisa whose eyes smile tenderly at my little ones. Lisa whose can greet family and make folks feel welcomed and loved.  Lisa who can handle a new marble game all over the floor.  Lisa who can hold Little C all afternoon.   Lisa who can read another chapter and another and another of “The MAgic Tree House” to my son.  Lisa who can say, “Thank you” to Brian at the end of a beautiful, humbling day.

Give them PRESENCE

‘Tis the season…for overwhelm.  Every Xmas, I tend to get overwhelmed.  My love language is NOT gift giving – especially in “have to” gift-giving times.  I am not one of those moms who knows the “right” toys for certain ages.  I don’t know the “cool gifts”, heck I don’t even know what styles are “in” right now for me!  With our children now in full “magic of Christmas” swing, I can so see how moms/parents could get consumed by the whole present thing and lose sight of what is most important.

I found myself the other night with Brian after the kiddos were asleep and the contents of Santa’s bag spread out on our kitchen floor, seeing what we had and making sure everyone had “enough” of the “right” stuff.  I found myself spending waaaaaaaay too much time checking our “lists” and getting more and more anxious – did Clara have enough?  Is it “balanced” in terms of “girly stuff’ and stuff that actually challenges her?  What about Aidan – he’s not that in to superheroes any more and more in to magic – do we give him the superhero stuff we had left over from last year?  And Brian – I can’t find him that sweater he wants, I even had Maria on the search, what do I do if I can’t find him anything?”   In comes “overwhelm.”

It’s all self-induced.  Our families are pretty chilled.  I probably wouldn’t have to have anything for anyone (ok, besides the kiddos) if I didn’t want to.  But I want to have something for them.  Yes, yes, I could make things – and I often do.  But even then, trying to decide WHAT to make folks can leave me feeling pretty overwhelmed.

What I’d really like to give for xmas?  Presence.  What I’d really like to receive for xmas?  Presence.

I mean, come on, do any of us really “need” any THING?  “Presence” is such a hot commodity these days.  Our undivided, un-opinionated, un-rushed presence.  Our mindful attention to another person that communicates, “I see you” and “I’m in no rush.”

Could you imagine – a little note under the tree saying, “Brian, this xmas, I’m giving you my presence.  My compassionate attention when you are tired in the morning.  My un-rushed kiss as we get the kiddos off to school.  My silence when I’d rather say something about how you aren’t doing it ‘my’ way.  My eyes open to really SEE you and see how I might make your day lighter.”

He’d love it.  And that truly would be an act of love – to mindfully and heartfully remind myself to offer my PRESENCE throughout the year.

I think that’s what I’m giving my friends.  Yes, I’m pretty good about being there for my friends.  But I could add a dash of  not rushing and just “I see you.”

I recently was listening to a podcast by Tara Brach.  She told the story of a mom who had terminal cancer and decided that with whatever time she did have, she’d live by this motto: “No time to rush.” 

None of us know when our last breath will be.  None of us have time to rush.  That isn’t meant to scare us.  It’s meant to open our hearts and eyes to the reality that this life is precious and short.  It’s meant to prompt us to give our sweet, loving presence – to our own hearts, our dear ones, and this world.

Happy presence giving!

Tips for Parenting with Compassion #9: Intrinsic vs. Extrinsic Rewards

Ok folks.  This seems to be coming up a lot.  Maybe I’m attuned to it, but I seem to be hearing this a lot lately.  I see it a lot with that Elf on a Shelf.  If you have one, get rid of it.  Yes, I feel that strongly about it.  It utilizes manipulation in order to get our kiddos to do something we want.  It is ALL about extrinsicly motivating kiddos.  It’s creepy and it’s fear based.

And I get it:  we parents are tired and under resourced.  Under stress, we default to what parenting strategies our parents used with us.  We want something easy and quick.  I get that.

But I am telling you, if you start focusing on INVESTING your time and energy into practicing some “Compassionate connection” strategies, you will soon see how SIMPLE it is.  No, not always EASY.  But the more and more you practice these, the more you build up that neuro pathway in your brain and CONNECTING with your child will become your default. You’ll see what a HUGE difference this makes in your relationship with your child.  AND you’ll notice a difference in your child.  Want a child to have faith in himself?  Want a teen to go within and sense for him or herself what is the right decision?  Want to nurture a child to become an adult who knows their passions and gifts, feels confident, and owns their life?  LIMIT YOUR EXTRINSIC REWARDS.

What’s the big deal with utilizing extrinsic rewards?

Using rewards actually BACKFIRES.  Research shows that kiddos do LESS of the behavior when they have been extrinsically rewarded!

Check out this article from Aha Parenting http://www.ahaparenting.com/_blog/Parenting_Blog/post/Bribery_versus_Incentives_and_Win_WIn_solutions/

Here is a great easy-t0read, short article.  http://www.naturalchild.org/jan_hunt/rewards.html.

I thought these two studies were interesting.  http://www.oncourseworkshop.com/motivation004.htm.

Here is a GREAT website to have on your bookmarks.  http://www.handinhandparenting.org/

Ok, so what do you do instead?

Well, let me start with an example.  Years ago, we were at the pediatrician’s office.  It was one of those appointments where my son was going to get a few shots.  The nurse came in and was like, “Oh, today’s appointment is a hard one!  But it’ll be over soon and maybe mommy will take you to McDonald’s because you were so brave!”

What do YOU think the problem with this was??  And don’t even get me started on using FOOD as a motivator!

INSTEAD of taking our son to McDonald’s, or giving him a toy or REWARDING him with any THING (or even a COMMENT from me such as: “Yes, you ARE so brave!”  Which, research shows, too, has a negative impact on a child’s sense of self-worth and negatively impacts behavior!), I FOCUSED ON CONNECTING WITH HIM.  I focused on being PRESENT with him, letting him know I was here with him and for him.  I DID NOT let the nurse hold him down (think: “trauma producing”).  I told the nurse how we’d do it.  YES, you heard that right — I told the nurse how we’d do it based on how I knew my child and what would work best for him.  That meant:  slowing down the appointment, not doing all the “scheduled” shots but the number I felt comfortable with, giving him a sense of empowerment by asking him what he needed, giving him information about the process (this was done WAAAY beforehand by reading to him about going to the doctor and letting him “practice” giving me shots), and letting him jump up when he was finished and move around and “let loose”, if you will.

Don’t get caught in our specifics.  These were things we did based on knowing our son.  The bottom line is instead of using extrinsic rewards, here are some  ideas:

1.  FOCUS ON CONNECTING WITH YOUR CHILD.

“I see you are hurting.  I’m here with you.”  Or for less dramatic times than shots, like dealing with a messy room, TALK TO THEM.  LISTEN to them.  Share how you feel.  Illicit their help in problem solving based on what everyone’s needs are.  (Get real with yourself.  What’s the REAL reason you want your child’s room to be clean?)

2.  Model the behavior you want. 

I was in the car the other day and the kiddos were not getting along.  I had it.  I was done.  I turned around and started yelling at them, “Aidan, I’m sick of you not being kind to your sister!  This has been going on all day!  Enough!  Start being kind to her NOW!”  What do you think happened?!  Clara started crying and said, “Mommy is angry.”  I looked in the rear-view mirror and Aidan was sinking down into his carseat — he felt horrible…about HIMSELF.  Yes, what irony:  I was wanting Aidan to be kinder and here I was yelling and threatening.  Don’t do that!   Instead… GET A GRIP.  This was all really about my OWN stuff (that’s another post) and I was tired (read: “not resourced”).  Instead, what would’ve been more helpful would have been to turn on some good music, start acting silly, illicit Aidan’s help in starting a game we could play.  I recognized this in the moment of yelling.  What did I do?  See #5 below.  And then I said to the kiddos: “Let’s have a redo.  I was mad.  I am tired.  I’m sorry.  Clara, I see you are upset.  Aidan, I see you scrunched down.  I don’t want that.  Can we regroup?  It’s been a long car ride.  Let’s put on some good xmas music and sing along.  How would that be?”  And it went MUCH smoother.

3.  Ask yourself, WHY DOES MY CHILD NEED BRIBERY or a REWARD for this behavior?? 

Really spend some time here.  Is it because I’m too exhausted (or stuck in a “shame cycle”) to be present with them?

4.  Dialogue with your child about the intrinsic rewards. 

Ask, “How do you feel when you share your book with your sister?”  Get them into their own bodies and hearts to notice what their internal experience is…and learn to trust it.  TALK to them about what’s HARD about doing their homework right after school.  TELL THEM about how you feel when you put your keys and purse and coat away right when you get home and the “reward” you get: ie, you can find your stuff again and you don’t have to worry about losing them.

5.  Ask yourself, “What is it I want?”  And: “What’s really going on here?”

Underneath the desire you have for your child to behave or certain way, there may be some hidden unmet need of YOURS going on.  When we use punishment or manipulation or cruelty, some part of us feels threatened, like we don’t have control, and fearful.  GET TO THE ROOT OF THAT!

My example from the car:  I was TIRED.  I had a long day and I needed a break.  Underneath the exhaustion was this thought: “Oh god, I’m a crappy parent.  I must be doing something wrong.  Otherwise he wouldn’t be acting like that.”  AND: “Oh my gosh, he’s going to do this for the rest of his life. “  AND: “He must feel like crap about himself and I must have failed him as a parent.”  That’s all MYYYYYYYY stuff.  Not my son’s.  THAT is what was really all motivating my REACTION (vs. response).

(*People often want to know what I do in that situation — when I recognize what’s really going on under the surface.  I try to pause.  I sloooooooow everything down.  I offer myself presence.  I offer myself compassion.  And that ALWAYS – yes always – results in opening up the space to then have compassion for others).

Ok, those are a few thoughts for this evening.  Put the elf thing away.   You don’t need it.  Your children don’t need it.  They just need you.  They need you resourced.  They need your kind eyes and safe presence.

Tips for Mindful Relationships #7: Regard

Recall the last conversation you had with your partner.

Did you look at them?

Did  your eyes communicate “I see you?”

Did your heart communicate “I’m listening?”

Did you look at them — really look at them and hold them with regard?

We can so often get caught up in the hustle and bustle of daily living that we forget to MAKE EYE CONTACT with our partner.  We can get so caught up in our interpretations, sulking in our hurts, mired in the story we’ve created, as our anger grows and we feel even more justified and RIGHT.  We can get so caught up in our habitual ways of interpreting and reacting.

Soon these fleeting moments turn into “the norm.”  We can spend years this way.  Decades.  Even a lifetime.

How lonely.  What a waste. There is much more happiness available to us than this!

Folks can often come to therapy with a laundry list of complaints about their partner (or children).  They want to know how to “get” their partner to do, say, or feel something.  I save them several long, expensive, fruitless sessions:  you can’t.

We can’t GET anyone to do anything.  The only thing we have “control” of is OURselves.  OUR reactions.  OUR actions, words, and emotions.

We live in a “me, me, me” culture.  And we live in the extremes — either totally negating “me” or totally wrapped up in “me” mode.

This does not work for being in a healthy and flourishing relationship.

Try “regard.”

Have regard for your Self.  Acknowledge what is happening within you at any given moment.  BE with arises.  Truly, some need will arise.  A deep need from the heart.  Share that need with your partner.

Have regard for your partner.  LIIIIIIISTEN.  Listen with the eyes and ears of your heart for the underlying need that is being expressed.  Let your whole BODY communicate, “I SEE YOU.”

This week, vow to yourself, if you feel moved to, that you will practice treating yourself and your partner with REGARD.  And when you don’t, just wake up, acknowledge that, and begin again.  There is ALWAYS time to begin again, this time, with your heart postured for listening and acting with kindness.

Want some great info on compassionate communication?  Check out the Center for Nonviolent Communication .  This is an international organization for communicating with compassion – with our partners, children, co-workers, etc.

Regarding Life

Today, on my way to work, winding around the beautiful Cabin John parkway in DC, next to the Potomac River, at 6:30 in the morning (yes, folks, it IS early), I saw a huge turtle trying to cross the road. 

I let out a gasp. Then I quickly looked around to see if there was a place to pull off. Of course there isn’t on the parkway. My heart sank. I know what will probably happen.

I started to think about how most people I know regard life. It’s in our being, our cells, our DNA, our wiring to have compassion. Even the driver next to me who was weaving in and out of traffic and being “not so kind” on the road saw the turtle too, and for a moment, we exchanged a heart-full and regretful glance. A glance of “oh my goodness, can we do anything?” Instinctual within both of us was a desire to preserve life.

My husband has a way of tenderly and mindfully regarding life. He NOTICES things in nature. He pauses and regards life. Like this tiny caterpillar.

Brian holding a tiny caterpillar on a nature walk with our children

Over the years of living with and loving Brian, his practice of pausing and noticing and REGARDING life has soaked into my bones. This is a gift he has given us. And he is passing this on to our children.

When our children stop and pick up a worm, bug or ant, they regard it as a sacred moment. They know they are on sacred ground. Their bodies become calm, their breathing slows down, and their eyes…their eyes widen. I FEEL the energy of their hearts widening too. They know they are holding LIFE. Even in its tiniest form, they know to reverence life.

It doesn’t matter to me when my children begin to read, when they know their multiplication tables, how many A+’s they receive, if they hit the ball out of the park or if they get into an ivy league school.

If Brian and I can pass on to our children such a regard for life, and this under girds all they do, I will say that we’ve done an incredible job parenting.

Repost: Mindful Moment: My mom’s every day love…in a grapefruit

{I wrote this a year ago.  I was reminded of it because, lately, I find that I am being called to a deeper sense of “selflessness.”  I see and notice and am grateful for how my mom and my husband both live lives of “serving the other.”  I am being called to be “less about me” – in every thing. More on this as the adventure unfolds}.

Grapefruit.  I could’ve sobbed over my grapefruit the other morning.  Carefully cutting the outside circle of my grapefruit, I stopped.  The memory of my mother so lovingly and thoroughly cutting my grapefruit for me as a girl flooded my mind and heart.  Back then, I probably didn’t say, “thank you.”  Back then, I took it for granted that she put such extraordinary care into something so ordinary.  Back then, I’m embarrassed to admit, I never thought that it was any “big deal.”

Now, as a mom to two little ones, I get it.  The time, attention, care, focus, energy, and “groundedness in what is important” it took for my mom to cut my grapefruit and never even say anything about it – I know all too well now what a big deal that is!  To take the time, to put off showering or brushing teeth or fixing her own breakfast, to put attention into one thing instead of being a multi-tasking queen, to muster up the energy from a night of little sleep from a tending to a sick little one, to find balance in divvying up time with more than one child, to recognize in the moment “THIS. This is what matters” — THAT is extraordinary.

mom and me

And I am humbled.  Grateful.  I want to go back in time and savor every little cut out triangle of grapefruit and hug my mom and kiss her and tell her she rocks and thank her for all the little every day ways she showed me extraordinary love.  Cutting my grapefruit.  Making my lunch (yes, even through high school).  Telling me to “take a mental health day.”  Braiding my hair.  Driving me (and team mates!) to and from soccer practice.  The list goes on.   Flashes of these memories flood my heart.  And I pick up my phone to call her.  She’s asleep.  My heart can’t wait to tell her “thank you.”

Ordinary things done with extraordinary love.

Before having my two little ones, I wanted to do extraordinary things in this world.  I had specific ideas about what that meant.  None of them involved cutting grapefruit.  But the other morning, I thought about how now it’s my turn to embody this legacy of loving with great tenderness and attention in the ordinary.  And I am quietly grateful as I go about my afternoon.  I cut an apple for my two little ones, peeling the skin carefully so my little C. can easily chomp away.

beholding my little one

grandma…still lovingly regarding her honeys

Made by tiny hands with love: the best mother’s day gifts

painted pottery from my dear ones

I am that mom today.  The mom who gets home-made gifts from her kiddos.   This is the first time.  And I am beaming.

I held this two pieces of pottery painted by my children, and I instantly treasured them.  I had a flash to the future when my children are grown and out in the world, one morning I wake and go into the cupboard to grab a plate, and I see this plate my two year old made.  And I am taken back to this very moment when she woke up, ran down the stairs, and said, “Mommy, happy mother’s day!” And continued to “help me” unwrap her gift telling me it’s very fragile and the “techniques” she used with her paint brush to get the beautiful swirls.

Another flash into the future:  my five year old son is a grown man, I have just been out in our garden (which, of course, Brian maintains!) and gathered a few of the first spring flowers of the year.  I come back in to look for the perfect vase and I find this one my son made me.  And I pause as I am brought back to this very moment when he told me how he painted it with his favorite color and how he painted the whole thing, even the bottom, and signed his name.

I can see why my mom treasured the hand-made gifts we made for her.  I can see why other moms talk about how the gifts made with tiny and messy hands are absolutely the best mother’s day gifts a mom could imagine.

Today, I am grateful for the privilege to be a mom.  I am awed by the delight in my children’s eyes when they offer me something they made with their tiny hands.  I am in love, gooshy, and so so deeply grateful all over again.