In the darkness of a child’s bedroom, I stretch my legs out, parallel to my child’s, two sets of limbs going opposite directions, complementary.
I close my eyes for a moment and remember another room, another pair of legs mirroring mine.
Connecting with Kids
Finding the Place I’d Been Looking for Far Closer than I Imagined
A quiet stream with gurgling water, a spattering of rocks along the bottom. My young child plays nearby, the water just high enough for him to splash in without worrying about him getting hurt. I sit on a rock, my baby nestled in my arms.
I opened my eyes to a prenatal yoga class full of other heavily pregnant women. I struggled to stand up from where I was snuggled into a nest of yoga pillows and blankets.
Finding Comfort in Rituals in Uncertain Times
The word ritual may evoke images of religious ceremonies with waving incense, but right now for my family, it means turning on Disney+ on Saturday mornings.
Picking Your Parenting Battles in the Face of Danger
13
“I saved your life! I should be able to choose for just one day,” my seven year old declared.
He had a point.
Learning to Let Others Take Care of Us
“Just let me take care of you!” I yelled at my four year old as I chased him around our beanbag chairs. I was trying to get him to let me put a cold-pack on his forehead, which was rapidly developing quite the goose egg.
Those words echoed in my head as I argued with my own mom a few days later. A pipe in our basement was clogged. Every time we drained our kitchen sink, water filled with food particles spewed up from a pipe behind the washing machine. Lovely. My mom was worried that if we ran the washing machine, it too would make the flooding worse.
Moving Past Blame for my Kids’ Sake
“It doesn’t really matter whose fault it actually is, we need to clean it up together,” I said to my kids, talking about some mess or another. I heard those words come out of my mouth as if I actually believed them. But I did really want to believe them.
I am a blame monster. If there’s blame to put on someone – even myself – I am on the case. I used to think that if you could blame someone for a problem, they would learn their lesson and not do it again.
Problem solved, right? Uh, no.
When Breakfast is an Act of Love
The door to my six-year-old’s room burst open and he bounced into the living room. “What do you want to eat for breakfast?” I asked, sitting on the couch.
“I want to make eggs!” he declared.
Doing Hard Things Together as a Family
“Noooooo,” my older son yelped as we got near the front of the ride, backing away.
My first reaction was annoyance. I thought, “We’ve talked about this for weeks, if not months, and you’re going to back out now?” We were about to get on Space Mountain at Disneyland, my favorite roller coaster in the world. Riding on the one at Magic Kingdom when I was in third grade captured my imagination and sparked an unexpected love of thrill rides. My son – who loves roller coasters – had been desperately looking forward to it. Or at least he had until right then.
When Waffles Look Like Growing Up
This may look like a plate of waffles to you, but it looks like growing up to me.
“Mickey waffles!” my five year old (nicknamed Sprout) declared, holding the box up and spinning around. The waffles responded by flying out of the box and smashing into the floor. There wasn’t a single clean waffle left.
When Boredom Equals Love
“Goombas don’t have arms,” my three year old’s small voice declared from beside me.
Sitting on the floor next to his bed, I replied, “Hon, please go to sleep.” As fascinating as the anatomy of Mario brothers’ video game characters are, it was not a conversation I wanted to have that moment. I just wanted him to go to sleep.