how we handle our kids' mistakes

Several years ago I was introduced to one of my favorite authors and speakers by listening to her Ted Talk. (I added the link below in case you want to check it out.)  She talks about vulnerability and shame; both of these things I could totally relate to.  It's like those times you don't realize you were hungry but once you take a bite your stomach becomes excited and you realize that food is what you needed. That's how I felt as I listened to Brene's words... they hit a strong cord within me knowing that it was something I needed to hear.  I knew all along that vulnerability and shame were things I had experienced in my life, even if I didn't admit it to others.

Push the fast forward button on the remote in my life and it finds me on a coach with my counselor. No, I'm not laying flat on my back like you see in the movies. But I am feeling shame and being vulnerable.  I'm noticing shame in my own life and now beginning to see it all around me. Someone gets angry quickly...it could be because they are feeling shame. Someone else shuts down quickly and withdraws...it could be because of shame.   This shame doesn't pick and chose who it will attack. It hits everyone, even my children.

I've heard shame compared to death. That's pretty emotionally painful, right? It doesn't get much worse than that.  So obviously it is something I want my kids to be aware of and to know how to handle when they feel it coming on. For me, shame makes me want to go in a cave. An empty cave. A dark cave. As I sit on the cold floor of the cave I picture my arms wrapped around my legs as if I was doing a safety drill as school. Shame is when I feel I am wrong.  I am stupid. I am a mistake.  Regret or remorse is feeling like I wished I hadn't messed up. It's when I'm noticing and regretting that I did that stupid thing. It's when I own my mistake and chose to learn from it.

Shame is that critical voice inside that expects me to never mess up.  Throughout my life I have often felt shame when I make mistakes. I'm 36. I wonder what my kids are feeling when they make mistakes. I believe that much of their inner voice is created by what they hear spoken to them at a young age. So hypothetically (ok, it's real...my kids aren't perfect), let's say the curtains fell from our 10 feet ceiling, curtain rod and all, and left a baseball size whole in the wall. For the second time! So often, I believe our response to our child when we see the rod on the floor covered with drywall dust scattered around is something like, "What were you thinking? Why did you do that? Do you know how hard that is going to be to fix this?" If I were that small 8 year old child I might begin thinking I'm a mistake, rather than, that was a mistake. My self talk might begin telling me that I was stupid, rather than, stepping on the bottom of the curtain wasn't me thinking it through (which is higher level thinking in brain which I may have not even developed yet).  My 8 year old self is no longer problem solving, learning from my mistakes (other than learning what makes my parents angry), so then I'm wanting to hide. Sounds like shame to me.

What if my 8 year old self was greeted with a parent that took a few deep breaths and modeled self control. What if that parent squatted down and with kind eyes asked what happened and if I got hurt. What if they showed their sadness but did it in a way that didn't make me feel like I was a mistake. "Let's problem solve!" they would say. We come up with how I'll do extra chores to make money to fix it and we practice how I need treat and walk around the long curtains. They say "Way to go! Look! You're being careful around the curtain!"  I feel sad because I messed up. But I know that I'm not a mess up. Handling our kids' mistakes are a huge opportunity to keep them from that dark cave, and into the light with us. I bet we'll have practice this weekend to deal with one of their mistakes!

Interested in hearing about Shame and Vulnerability? Click here.https://www.ted.com/talks/brene_brown_listening_to_shame?utm_campaign=tedspread--a&utm_medium=referral&utm_source=tedcomshare

Mirror Mirror on the Wall: noticing my kids

I was in line this morning at JC Penny picking up an online order for these cute clearance curtains I found for the kids playroom. Yay for making time to decorate! As I was waiting in a line, a father and his daughter pulled up behind me. She was probably 3 years old and her father had strapped her in a stroller.  In the checkout line near the cash register, there were bags of jelly beans. This girl fixed her eyes on them and proceeded to ask her dad probably 20 times or more if she could have them and repeated that she liked jelly beans and wanted him to buy a bag for her. The father did a pretty good job in my opinion. He repeated what she wanted, every time. He was patient. He came up with a plan that they could buy a smaller bag later that day but that these bags were to big for her. When she repeatedly insisted that she likes jelly beans he gently reminded her that she had never had them before.   I got my flowery curtains (they look cute btw) in hand and as I walked away from the pair of them, I listened as the same repetitive conversation between the father and daughter continued.  I looked at him with a smile and said, "I hope she enjoys those jelly beans!"


Why do my children ask or tell me the same thing over and over again? I'm not alone in this right? Seriously, the same kid will ask the same thing to me even if I've given them an answer (each time!)  I think it might be similar to when I look in the mirror before I leave my bedroom.  I stop and examine myself.  What do I look like? Do I have anything in my teeth? Did I paint my lipstick out of the lines?  (Actually, I don't wear lipstick. It's more realistic for me to check if my long lashes are flashing)  :)  We look into a mirror to be seen.  And isn't that what I want in relationships with the people I care about?  I want to be seen by them. I want them to hear me, to slow down and notice me. (I think that's why the beginning of a romantic relationship can be so fun and exhilarating because there is a lot of noticing going on with little distraction. (#bachelornation)

When my kiddos were babies they would cry to get my attention. When I had toddlers I heard a lot of, "Look mom, look!" It didn't matter if they had already slid down the slide at the park before. They wanted me to watch again. As they became school aged it is similar; the message is the same.  "Look what I made with my legos!"  Having a preteen son I hear on occasion, "I hate you! You never listen."  Ok, that is a little harder to hear than "Look! Look!" but he's saying the same thing. The desire and need behind it is the same. In my mommy head I translate those difficult words to, "Mom, do you care about me? Do you see I'm having big feelings. Look at me. Listen to me. Notice me."

I'm learning to take the mirror that is hanging up and putting it in front of me and show it to my kids. I simply reflect what I see them doing or saying. This gives me space to slow down and look at them with happy eyes and with no judgement. And what really excites me is that it communicates to my kids that I see them! They matter to me!   When 2 year old Nathan would go down that darn slide at the park he wasn't looking for me to correct him or tell him he was strong or doing a good job. It was simple. He simply wanted me to notice and him go down the slide. In kid brain language me looking at him says, "I see you! You matter to me!"  When Stephen comes to me after playing alone for 30 minutes building a lego outer space warship, he wants me to simply stop what I'm doing and look at it. "You made a outer space ship!"  That it. I don't need to add a question, a comment, a suggestion, a praise. This simple statement is all it takes for him to then give me a full and detailed description about how he made each part with care and symmetrical so that each function of the ship is effective.  Mommy success in my book!  We connected!

This is new for me. I hate to admit that I too often miss these 'mirroring' moments. It may be because I'm looking at my phone, trying to make dinner, or simply don't realize that I have a connection opportunity in front of me.  Instead of reflecting what they have done or said I instead give them praise, critique, or say that now is not a good time.   I want to practice mirroring with them more and more. I want their internal dialogue to be that their mommy sees them and cares about them. My goal is to have their hearts. Not just their obedience. Not just my standard of peace and quiet (although that would be nice...you know what I'm sayin).  Not just to be good citizens and act properly.  Connection is my main goal as a parent!  Because then that is when the want to obey. That is when they are teachable. That is when they will trust me. That is when they are in their 20s and choose to call me instead of out of obligation (hopefully!). 

So mirror mirror on the wall, I want you to show my kids that I see them all.

Dear Perfect Mom

Dear Perfect Mom,

I am so impressed you have it all together. I noticed you driving your van past my house away from school because you've already dropped of your kids on time and you're on your way to Starbucks for a quiet time of reflection. I spotted you driving by my house because I was looking in my rear view mirror to see which kid was singing at the top of their lungs and which kid was yelling at the opera singer to be quiet. My other child spilled his water bottle because instead of getting his seat belt on he was climbing over the seat to get into the other 2 kids business.  I drive back into the garage that I just pulled out of and put it in park so that I can walk my wet child back into the house so he can go to school with dry clothes.

You are not not only always on time but you look put together too. Your hair is straightened (and washed!), your eye brows are manicured, and you have an outfit that looks like it came off the manikin.  I however, quickly grabbed and put on workout clothes from my disheveled dresser because my child declares he doesn't have any clean socks. I spend my time before the 8:40am school bell rings looking for sock matches in the bottom of the clean over-flowing clothes bin.  Sadly I can't find any, so I look around the house for an old pair that doesn't smell too bad so he can re-wear them. I remind myself to put a load of whites in the washer this afternoon after grocery shopping and stopping by the post office to send some skin samples to my friends. I try to make a mental note and remind myself to take Grace's teal stained shirt out of the bottom of the washer that I threw in their last night.

You look refreshed.  You must be using Rodan and Fields (sorry!! I had too) :)   Your body is tight so I can tell you spend the right amount of time at the gym and in the kitchen. Emotionally, you are aware and healthy that you not only notice the new mom in mops but also have the courage and thoughtfulness to talk with her and invite her to sit down next to you. You are warm and outgoing so you have no problem making friends easily. And your kids must take after you because they typically respond so kindly to your directions and are eager to obey. The story you shared about your husband bringing home your favorite tea because he heard you last week talking on the phone with a friend about how you wanted to try out the new berry flavor really touched my heart. He was so thoughtful and payed attention to details.

Perfect mom, I realize you don't exist.  However, sometimes I believe you do. I see glimpses of you in other moms. I see glimpses of you in me. But here is the mom I see more often.  I see the mom who drove past my house who is sipping on her 2nd store brand coffee because she was up most of the night with her child who had a stomach ache (again) and is wondering what's going on with her daughter.  I see the mom who didn't get a shower in that morning but did put some cute earrings on and lipstick to liven up her face. I see the mom who is doing the best she can to feed her family and herself as healthy as possible but also is thinking of the budget and how she wants to spend her time (or less time) in the kitchen. I see the mom who is emotionally drained because she felt misunderstood by her husband when they had a parenting disagreement this morning but yet she still reaches out to the new mom at the park.

I want to stop judging the perfect mom.  I want to stop trying to be like her. Instead, I want to be a human being. Not a human doing or a human perfection. But a human BE-ing. I want to be. And being means that sometimes I'm that mom that made that beautiful birthday cake that everyone can't believe has vegetables in it and is only 25 calories and the moment is just right. And other times, being means that I'm that mom that carries her 6 year old down the isle even though he is over half her size because his older brother just ran out of site in anger and his sister flopped on the floor and is refusing to move an inch because she wants you to buy fruit roll ups for lunch.  That moment feels miserable and I feel powerless. Both moments are being a human being. Both are part of being a mom.

Perfect mom, you motivate me yet discourage me because I can never attain you.  You seem to do me more harm than good. So I'll stop pretending to be you. I'll accept and acknowledge both the right moments and the miserable moments.  And I'll stop assuming you are all the other moms around me. Those moms are human BE-ings too. So goodbye perfect mom. I'm trading you in for a beautiful perfect imperfection.

Happy to Say Goodbye,

        A Beautiful Imperfect Mom

A Safe Haven

Over my life, I’ve had various places where I feel a hint of magical dust fall upon me. It’s usually when I’m in nature or with those whom I love. I have a sense of peace. I am fully present. My mind is not divided between different spheres of time, which is typically the future for me. I feel the freedom to be me. Sometimes it’s when I’m sitting across from a friend who seems to know my words before I do because they are feeling right along with me. That’s home to me. I remember going for walks in Grand Rapids and finding a quiet bench to sit and write while being surrounded by the trees, the wind, the smell of cool air. That was home.  Several years ago I was driving home from a counseling session and I left knowing myself more, figuring out who I was a bit more. That felt freeing. That felt like home. 

One of the hardest things for me as a parent is how much my kids fight. I didn’t grow up in a family where we fought, at least not outwardly.  I have a personality (maybe we all do)  where I do my best in a safe, quiet, peaceful environment. Add kids to that. Yep, bye bye to all of those things. If home can be a feeling of acceptance, freedom, peace, and being known, then what are my 4 walls on Yale Street?   What can my kids expect about this environment as they walk out of the garage and down the hallway to our kitchen?  Is my home a place where mistakes are looked at as a learning opportunity or failure? Is my home a place where we can be goofy and won't be made fun of? Is my home a place where we don't have to have it all together and will not be lectured for being imperfect?    I dream that the rooms in my house to be a place where my kids belong. The world is tough, their days at school can be challenging. Grace came home livid yesterday because of a situation that happened at school. I want her to know that when she gets home, she will be protected from the pain of the day. She will be comforted and listened too. No more struggle, no more fighting to be noticed, no more having to prove herself.  She can find comfort on our couch and cry or laugh. She can be messy. She can be real. She can be Grace.  Home is where I want her to feel. To be.

I recently read that identity is discovered in relationships. Our children are becoming aware of their bodies, creating their own thoughts and opinions, becoming more of themselves as time passes and settling into their own identity. They are transforming into who they are and what they think of themselves.   What I say or do when Grace sits next to me with tears in her eyes and pain in her words, gives me the opportunity to embrace her little being and to affirm. To love. To accept. To encourage. Her identity is being formed daily in these 4 walls. What am I saying that is shaping her self talk and what she things about herself?

If I had a genie, I think I would ask that my kids never fight again. I want my home to be a place where my kids would protect one another rather than fight for their own personal gain. I desire my house to breath forgiveness and for my children to fill their lungs with mercy.  Who and what my kids think of themselves is crucial. Maybe one of the most important things we can focus on. Not some shallow self-esteem talk, but instead a deep sense of belonging and assurance of who they have been created to be and how they are unique and can bring goodness to this world. My hope is that my children experience more and more glitter dust moments that create a safe haven for them. I want them to feel glimpses of being known and knowing others.  As they learn about themselves and become familiar with being ‘home’ I can then gently speak to my children and tell them to be ‘home’ to those around them.

To the parent who has a challenging kid

I was great with kids ever since I was one. I am a teacher at heart and have had plenty of experience dealing with all kinds of children and temperaments. I love kids!  Mike and I were in Jamaica last weekend and we were poolside when a few young boys kept splashing around us. They were each trying to keep the cup in their hand above water and Mike asked them what they were drinking. They kept sipping and enjoying the cool water while the sun beat down on them.  We looked at each other and chuckled and I told him I didn't think they heard him and that is why they didn't answer. He suggested I give it a shot because our running joke is that kids hear me and somehow flock to me.  So I asked the boys what they were drinking. They turned towards me and took the straws out of their mouth and said they didn't know but that it was good and then they went back to sipping and splashing around.


Even though I love children and am good with them, I experienced quickly as new mom that I could not control my children. This was a shocker for me so I began to ask older women for their advice. I would excitedly listen to them hoping to hear that my child was normal and anticipate getting a golden nugget of guidance that would help my wild child. Over time, I realized the advice was usually tailored to what worked for them and their child, all while I felt missed and  still struggling. Although I am grateful for these mommies and for their time, I didn't feel any sense of hope or direction for my personal situation. They didn't understand my child. They didn't understand me. They didn't ask me any questions about by little one. Instead, I was given suggestions of do's and don'ts and I had already tried those. I'm the queen of brainstorming and love coming up with systems for children. I don't read a ton but when I do it is most likely about child development. As a new mom, I thought many thoughts and felt many feelers.  Am I the only mommy that has a child like this? I'd read an article about strong willed children and the words would come off the page and resonant and a piece of me felt understood.  Is my child the only one who seems to not feel remorse? I was afraid to plan a play date because I knew that when it's time to go my child will throw a huge fit and I was left feeling exhausted and humiliated. Why does my child lie so much? Is this normal? Is she ever going to change? Am I doing something wrong?  The other children don't seem to struggle with this. There can be so many thoughts and feelers going on inside a parent's head.

If I could go back to the 25 year old Sarah with a one year old I would give her a hug and hand her a plate of brownies and a cup of caramel macchiato from Starbucks.  I would slow down the moment and look her in the eyes and tell her that I see her- I see the sacrifices she makes, I see the worry she feels, I see her exhaustion and her effort. I would listen to her. I would be quiet. I would tell her all the amazing things I see in her child. I would hope to encourage her in these 5 ways. 

1.  You are not alone. You are normal. Your child is normal. Your story and your child's unique situation is not an accident and both of you are being weaved into this beautiful story of growth.

2. Stop comparing. I know that this is a hard one, Sarah, and you will probably compare the rest of your life but know that it will never satisfy your insecurity. Instead it leaves you feeling either superior or inferior. And I know for you it is usually the latter. Be in the moment and accept it as it is. Accept your child as she is.

3.  Confide and open up to a friend that doesn't judge you. A friend who drives with curiosity and has empathy as its passenger.  You don't need a pragmatic friend but instead a friend who goes deeper and hears through your words and sees your heart.

4. Don't be afraid to get professional help. It doesn't mean that something is terribly wrong or that you have messed up. Getting help doesn't label you.  You may end up learning something you didn't even know was out there to learn.

5. You can't control your child but you can grow. You give everything to your child. And as much as you want to help mold their character and manage their conscience-you can't.  So much of this parenting thing is about your growth and journey so take a moment for yourself and reflect. The more you learn about yourself, the more it will help you be an effective mom.

So maybe our kids aren't the ones that are calm and we won't get comments on how well behaved they are when leaving the playground. But it's the crazy kids that are dreamers. It's the hitters that end up standing up for social injustice. It's the biters that speak up for the underdog. It's the  ones that push the boundaries that don't give up and are persistent. My difficult kid can bring me to tears and cause me to question my parenting but that child is full of life, opinions, courage, exploration, curiosity, and he is fully human and was knit together just the way God intended.  One last thing I would say to Sarah is to see the good in them.  Be their advocate. Embrace all of who they are and who they are becoming.

FEEDING MY KIDS TOO MUCH HAPPINESS and how the Bachelor gives good parenting advice

I’m embarrassed to admit that I am a Bachelor lover. Yes I watch a show where 20 year olds, who apparently don’t have to work for a quarter of the year, put on all their makeup and show America their best selves.  The message that all these singles communicate when they have their few minutes of fame is that they just want to be happy. If they could just find love then they would be happy. “What a stupid idea,” I have thought many times. Marriage isn’t only about happiness. I talk at the screen saying, “You’ll always be disappointment and crying like Ashley if happiness is your standard.”  

What makes my kids happy?  With limited lawn space for our kids to run freely around to explore, our kids enjoy the things we do have outside which is standing water along our curb. This is a breeding ground for tadpoles. They squat down in the street, squeal with excitement, and scoop up these little swimmers with their hands or a Tupperware if the little guy is lucky.  On my back porch, I have a large Tupperware, with grimy opaque water, filled with so many tadpoles it looks like a room full of toddlers when you say it’s lunchtime.  Yesterday morning before school started, the kids ran out with handfuls of lettuce to give them their breakfast and they called me out there. There was a tadpole that looked like a blowfish. You know when Violet swelled up because she ate too much candy in Charlie’s factory?  This blowfish must have eaten too much lettuce. I had never seen anything like it. It was so swollen that its skin was translucent and had a silvery rainbowy glow.  Poor guy. I went back into making lunches and Nathan walked in with a confident smile and told me he took care of him. He popped him so that the food could come out. He explained how he had saved him and then eagerly went back outside to check on him.  How many times am I just like this with my kids? My intentions are good, but at the same time unknowingly, I may be harming them.

I’m realizing how often I feed my kids a slice of happiness just like my kids kept feeding the blowfish tadpole.  I tie their shoes every morning even though they are very capable of using their own hands to tie their laces. I don’t want them to have loose shoes or to have to struggle their way through tying their own laces. One slice of happiness.  I remind them several times in one morning to put their homework in their bag and then check to make sure they did it so they don’t feel the embarrassment of not having it or have a docked grade.  Another slice of happiness. I make sure at the beginning of the school year that they have the right book bag and lunchbox so that they feel comfortable with them.  An additional slice of happiness. Ok, you get the point. I realize that I live like Bachelor nation. I want them to be happy! I don’t want them to feel pain, sadness, embarrassment, loss or anything remotely uncomfortable! Whoa, how did I get here? Is that even what is best for my kids? Or am I just feeding my little tadpoles one bite of happiness at a time when eventually they are going to explode. And they do explode (it’s called an emotional breakdown or aka a tantrum). If there is a challenge where they need to step up or if something is difficult, they sometimes explode. “What! I have to tie my own shoes! But I caaaaan’t!” 

Please don’t hear what I’m not saying. I’m not saying I want my kids to be miserable. Happiness is bad. I want to make my kids’ life terrible. What I am contemplating is the thought that I have created an environment and standard of living that is not only unhealthy but also unattainable.  I want my kids to be resilient. Then don’t they need to experience difficult conditions?  I want them to know how to handle loss. Then don’t they need to undergo being deprived of something of value to them?  I want them to know they are not defined by their mistakes. Then don’t they need to encounter a mishandled situation and feel that my love has not wavered for them?

This is taking off some stress for me as well. I’m realizing they don’t have to have the best kindergarten teacher or a stylish haircut because parenting is about teaching not creating a flawless world for them. And how can they learn when everything is perfect?  Do I absolutely delight in giving my kids slices of happiness? Absolutely! But I don’t want to overfeed my tadpoles where they turn into blowfishes and eventually pop. When my tadpoles have a moment of hunger I consequently have the opportunity to teach them skills to get their own food. And just as my kids faithfully take care of their tadpoles until they are ready to jump out of the Tupperware, I will devotedly not stop loving my kids whether they get that slice of happiness or not.