What now keeps me up at night as a mom

Photo of an alarm clock in the dark with the time 10:26 AM, 57% humidity and 71 F

My eyes closed, nearly drifting off to sleep, I startle, awakened by a creaking noise. Is it one of the kids’ doors? Is one of them up, perhaps to go to the bathroom? Listening closer, room still dark, I strain to hear. The noise occurs again, but I can locate it just outside our window. “It’s the blueberry bushes, scratching the house,” I reassure myself. But some part of me doesn’t accept that answer and keeps listening anyway – just in case.

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On holding expectations loosely

Photo of a model train going past a model of a farm in Mali made of plant parts

Sometimes, plans don’t work the way they should the first time. But that doesn’t mean they will never work, just that you need to adjust. As someone who gets stuck on expectations, this can be really hard. But it’s almost always worth it to figure out how to make it work.

Every year, we do an activity Advent calendar. For the past several years, COVID has prevented us from doing many of the activities we’ve done in the past, including the train display at the U.S. Botanical Garden. I found out that they finally relaunched it this year, outdoors. But the one day we could do it overlapped with a really important meeting of one of my older son’s extracurricular activities. So that was a no-go. But we were able to go after Christmas – not ideal, but better than nothing. And so we went the week of Christmas break, which worked out beautifully.

This lesson *may* just apply to far more than planning activities. When we hold on our expectations too tightly – whether to who our children are or what we do with them – we miss out on what is possible. As hard as it is to come to terms with what is not, it’s so much better to embrace what is.

Respecting the Seasons of Growing Up

Text: Respecting the Seasons of Growing Up; Photo of tomatoes entangled in a mesh fence with trees and plastic flamingos in the fence in the background;

Breaking off twigs heavy with red cherry tomatoes, my mouth twisted in dissatisfaction with the brown leaves around it. I should have watered it better, I should have cleared the yellowed leaves out more, I should have, I should have, I should have.

But no, I thought, pushing that criticism aside. I was deriding myself for not fighting the plant’s natural cycle. Trying to keep cherry tomatoes neat and pruned is a fool’s errand. It works against rather than with the plant. We’re still getting loads of tomatoes – so what if it’s messy?

So often we try to buck the natural cycle of things even when they fulfill their purpose, don’t we? So often we try to make things neat and fast when they are messy and take time – like childhood.

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Relying on the Village in Parenting

Relying on the Village in Parenting; photo of a white boy in a red kayak on a lake

I opened and closed my mouth trying not to say anything to my younger son. Finally, I just had to. “No, not like that!” I cried, as our kayak started moving backwards. I sighed and thought, “I thought he knew how to do this?!”

My younger son was sitting in front of me in a red double kayak. I was attempting to leave shore. He dipped one side of his paddle in the water, then dipped it on the same side again, and then dragged it backwards on the surface.

“Take your paddle out!” I yelled. I struggled to figure out how to explain the sixteen different things he needed to fix, all at the same time. I tried to start with something concrete.

“Ah, ah, your hands, your hands need to be spaced the same amount apart. Can you spread them out?” I stammered as I paddled, trying to keep us from running into another boat or going backwards. As he fixed his hands, I replied, “Yes, like that.” Then thought, “Or not,” as his hands shifted exactly back to where they were before. And then his paddle was going backwards again. “Ack, no, stop paddling!”

My husband, Chris, spotted our flailing. My older son was in his kayak and while his form wasn’t perfect, he had done it before and was remembering the rhythm. My husband was in a good place to provide a metaphorical hand.

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Letting Go of Control So Our Kids Can Have It

Letting Go of Control So Our Kids Can Have It; Photo of a young boy running along a stone walkway towards a stone arch with trees over it

“I can’t get the bike lock open!” My older son came up to me with the keys to my bike lock in his hand. He was supposed to be unlocking his bike from the rack at school.

“Uh, just make sure you put it in carefully. It’s kind of fussy. Why don’t you try again?” I said.

“Hahaha, I was just tricking you!” he said. I sighed. He went back to the bike.

A couple minutes later, he was back again. “I really can’t open it. It’s really stuck.”

“Uh, okay, I can help then.”

As I started walking towards the bike, he laughed and said, “I got you again!”

Cue me looking at the non-existent camera in my life, like I’m a sitcom character.

“Ha ha. Yep, you definitely got me. Go unlock your bike, please.”

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The Challenges and Necessity of Positive Parenting

The Challenges and Necessity of Positive Parenting; photo of a man in a red winter coat next to a kid with a blue winter coat and hat standing next to a stream with a small waterfall with bare trees in the background

Positive parenting – or gentle parenting or conscious parenting – is hard.

It’s hard being patient and kind and demonstrating good listening skills. It’s hard relating to these little people who have such different perspectives as us but also remind us of the characteristics that we ourselves struggle with the most. It’s hard having positive healthy relationships with the people you love the most that you’re also responsible for guiding towards adulthood. It’s hard when you have to push back against what so much of society labels as “good kids” or “good parenting.” It’s hard when the world takes so much out of us and leaves so little left for our children.

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What Our Rabbit Reminded Me About Connection

Photo of a white rabbit with brown spots sitting on a blue couch arm; text: What our rabbit reminded me about connection

I felt a nipping at my jeans and looked down. “Hey, stop that!” I chided our pet rabbit Hoppity. I frowned. “You have plenty of hay, water…do you want attention?” Softening, I sat down criss-cross on my son’s floor. The bunny hopped over and started licking my jeans. I petted him, running my hand over his soft ears and back. He hopped onto my leg and started licking my other one. I smiled, realizing that this is the first time he had hopped into my lap that didn’t involve food.

What was first a moment of annoyance turned into a moment of connection.

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The Blurred Clarity of Memory

Photo of two children and a woman in hiking clothes hiking down a trail covered in leaves; text: The Blurred Clarity of Memory

“First we took the orange trail and then red and we came down the green,” my older son said from the backseat of the car. I stared at the phone in my hand, where I had pulled up a map of hiking trails. No, he couldn’t have remembered it that clearly. We hiked it two years ago. This is a kid who forgets things minutes after I say them. I looked again. He was right – that was exactly what we had done.

“Yeah, I think you’re right,” I said.

Memory makes things strange.

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